


Falling Over Me Like Stars

by orphan_account



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bullying, F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Language, M/M, Minor Violence, bigtimebang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-06 12:39:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's James' and Logan's senior year of high school, and what should have been one of the best years of their lives ends up far messier and complicated than either of them had anticipated, driving a wedge between them.</p><p>It’s almost two years before Logan and James see each other again, all ties having been severed following what went down in high school. Both had been certain they were over what happened, but when faced with seeing each other again, they’ve realized they’re not over it and that there are things they need to talk about and work out. Problem is, Logan doesn’t know if he can go through with it, all the feelings of hurt and betrayal bubbling to the surface at seeing James – James and his boyfriend. James just wants a chance to prove he’s changed, that he’s sorry for what happened, but when he tries, Logan shuts him out. With some meddling from Camille, James and Logan come face to face once more, but will they be able to overcome the past and have any kind of future together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Please keep him safe._  
>  Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be  
> like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed  
> to pieces. Makes a cathedral, him pressing against  
> me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe  
> his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me  
> like stars.  
> -Richard Siken, _Saying Your Names_
> 
>  

This is not how Logan imagined his senior year going. He’d figured it was going to be a lot harder than any other year before, and he wasn’t wrong about that. Just - he was wrong about everything else.

The beginning of the year was promising, looked as though this was going to be one of the best years of Logan’s life, and it was, for a while, anyway. Yeah, the classes were tough and more often than not he had homework piled up to his eyes, but it was okay; he had James and that made it all a little more bearable.

Up until she arrived, firmly squashing everything Logan dreamt he could have. It wasn’t even the fact that he couldn’t have everything he wanted that sucked. No. It was the fact that no matter how much he wanted or how much he tried, he just couldn’t hate her, and he knew it was going to be his downfall.

“Hey, Jennifer and I are going to that new diner that opened up,” James says, causing Logan to startle then sigh. He does this almost every day, sneaking up on Logan after their last class when Logan’s head is buried inside his locker, transferring the books he needs for homework into his backpack.

“That’s cool,” Logan replies. “You’ll have to tell me how it is.”

“Dude, no, you’re coming with us,” James says, smiling wide like it’s the most genius thing he’s ever said.

Typical.

“James, look. It’s cool that you and Jennifer invite me out with you guys, but I dunno, man. Being the third wheel kinda sucks after a while, y’know?”

“So? We’ll find you a date then, turn it into a double-date.”

“No, that’s alright. You guys just do your coupley thing. I’m cool with sitting this one out.”

Lie after lie, it seems that that’s all Logan’s capable of doing these days. He is not okay with being the third wheel on James’ and Jennifer’s dates, he is not okay with watching them make stupid lovesick faces at each other, he is not okay with them sneaking kisses every two seconds when they think he isn’t looking, and he is just not okay at all.

It was easier, in the beginning, the stupid crush he had on James. He never thought he’d actually have a chance, even if he let himself dream that maybe someday James would realize he was the one for him. But then Jennifer showed up, and watching the way James was around her, stuttering and bumbling and so far from smooth, made Logan want him so fucking badly. And when they got together, it all just seemed that much worse.

Logan has never been able to say no to James, so when James continually invited him along on his dates with Jennifer, Logan literally couldn’t say no. It’s a sick and twisted torture watching them, her tucked up along James’ side, his hand at the small of her back, her small, delicate hand twined with James’ as they walk, and Logan wants to hate her so badly, but she’s so sweet and kind and funny and she’s got this snarky edge that keeps James on his toes, and even the thought of hating her makes Logan sick now. There is no way; she is entirely too likeable.

“Logan, c’mon,” James wheedles, flashing his pearly white teeth in a wide smile, eyes so genuine and hopeful, and once again, Logan finds himself giving in. “Dude, awesome. We’ll pick you up at quarter to 7, okay?”

James is already walking away when Logan nods, hiding his grimace behind what he hopes passes for a smile. He hates that he keeps doing this to himself, but James - James and his stupid fucking face and his stupid smile and his stupid eyes, they’re Logan’s weakness and every time without fail, he caves.

“Why the long face?” Camille comes up beside Logan, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Another night where I have to watch James and Jennifer make eyes at each other,” Logan says quietly, then shuts his eyes and sighs, shaking his head.

“Logan,” Camille says, soft and concerned.

“I know, Cam. I just - I can’t say no to him,” Logan replies, and he feels that heaviness in his gut that always seems to appear when Camille’s around. He trusts her more than just about anyone and it’s why he told her about his stupid crush on James, but now she knows so much, knows how much it hurts him to see James and Jennifer together, how badly he wishes it was him instead, how James has him so wrapped that saying no to him isn’t even an option, and sometimes - most of the time - it makes him feel uneasy, uncomfortable in his own skin because he knows that with just a look, she’ll have him opening up and spilling everything, regardless of the fact that she’s heard it all, and that he really doesn’t like talking about it.

He likes to consider himself a fairly private person; he doesn’t really talk about personal things unless he has to, and even then he manages to be as vague as possible. But with Camille, it’s almost impossible for him to be vague and he ends up talking and talking until his throat is sore and his voice is hoarse. She’s probably one of the best things that’s ever happened to him and he sometimes finds himself wishing that it was her he wanted instead, that the little one month relationship they had during their sophomore year would’ve worked; it sure as hell would’ve been a lot easier than the hell he’s going through now.

“My parents are out of town for the weekend. You should just ditch them and come over instead. Ice cream and horror movies sound like a plan to you?”

“Camille,” Logan says, prepared to tell her no, that he has to do this, but when she fixes him with that look, the one that makes him want to run and hide because there’s no telling what she’ll do to him, he quickly says, “I’ll duck out early, tell them my parents need me home early because they’re leaving for a weekend conference for my dad or something, okay?”

“How about I just tag along to make sure?” Camille asks, and Logan’s hit with such an amazing idea that he could kiss Camille for it.

“Yes, yes, you do that. James was saying how I should find a date and we should make it a double-date instead so I don’t feel like a third wheel and -”

“Whoa, whoa, Logan, I was kidding,” Camille says, cutting him off.

“No, Camille, please. We’ll go and eat, then say we had some other stuff planned so we can leave early,” Logan says, giddy with the idea.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Camille asks. “I mean, won’t James think it’s weird that we’re on a date?”

Logan takes a second and thinks it over, decides it’s probably not the smartest thing to do, but knows it’ll be a little more bearable with Camille there.

“He’ll probably ask why I never told him I had a crush on you or something, but I can just tell him that we’re trying a relationship again, y’know? He knows we dated a couple years ago, so he probably wouldn’t think it’s too weird.”

“Is that something you want James thinking?” Camille asks, and this is why Logan sometimes wants to strangle her, her and her damn rational thinking.

“Does it really matter, Cam? It’s not like he’d ever think twice about me anyways, and besides, he’s dating Jennifer, so.”

“Alright, alright. But you’re paying,” Camille says, poking him in the arm.

“You’re the greatest ever,” Logan says, wrapping his arm around Camille’s shoulder and pulling her in closer to him.

“Yeah, I know,” Camille replies with a laugh, falling into step beside Logan. “Pick me up at 7?”

“Make it 6:45. James wants to be there at 7.”

“6:45, then,” Camille says, and she leans in, placing a sloppy, wet kiss on Logan’s cheek before darting away, laughing like a maniac.

\--

By the time Logan gets home from school, it’s nearing 4:30. The house is quiet and empty and he figures his parents are still at work. He pulls his homework out of his backpack and spreads it out over the dining room table, deciding to get as much of it done now as he can. There isn’t much to do anyway, a handful of problems for his math class and a few pages of reading for history, but he likes having it done and out of the way before he does anything else on the weekends.

This is comfort for Logan, losing himself in facts and numbers, working out problems until he gets the correct answer. It’s all so clear cut and straight to the point, based on logic and rules the way he wishes everything was. In life, there are too many shades of gray, too much that’s unknown, a million different outcomes for one situation and it’s where he finds himself floundering, hating the way that there are no rules or anything to follow, that he’s flying blind through it all, hoping for the best possible outcome in a situation he has no prior knowledge of or experience in.

A knock on the door pulls him away from his last math problem and he hastily scribbles down the answer, sparing a glance at his history book and the reading he more than likely won’t be able to finish now before he moves into the foyer and opens the door, not surprised in the least to see Camille standing there, smile on her face, messenger bag slung across her torso.

“Thought I was picking you up,” Logan says, moving aside to let Camille in before closing the door and following her into the living room.

“Eh, decided I’d come over now instead. Gotta pull you away from your homework, you lamer,” Camille replies. She sets her bag on the floor in front of the sofa, falling back onto it with a resounding sigh. “I really love this sofa,” she says, stretching out on it.

“I wasn’t doing my homework,” Logan says, but the darting glance he sends towards the dining room fails to hide the lie.

“Right,” Camille says, snorting. “Sit down. We’ve got about an hour to kill before we’ve gotta head out.”

Begrudgingly, Logan sits, lifting Camille’s feet and laying them over his lap. Camille grabs the remote before he can, and she ends up turning the tv to some show Logan couldn’t care less about, but it’s a good way to pass the time, he decides, laughing at the sheer idiocy of the people on tv.

“Crap,” Logan says suddenly, and Camille mutes the television, turning to look at him with her brows knit in question.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, sitting up and tucking her feet under her.

“Forgot to tell James about the change in plans. He was gonna come here and pick me up, but now with you going with us, he doesn’t have to and I just realized I didn’t text him to tell him that,” Logan explains, already fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“Huh. I thought that would’ve been the first thing you would’ve done after we decided I was gonna come along,” Camille says.

“No,” Logan says, fingers flying over his phone. “I surprisingly didn’t even think about it,” he adds after he’s finished typing out the text.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, Logan. Chill. Just a little surprised you hadn’t thought to text James right away about the change of plans,” Camille says, making her voice as soft and non-confrontational as she can.

“Yeah, I dunno. Think I was more concerned with getting my homework done first,” Logan says. It’s not that he’s lying, per se. He really hadn’t given much thought about texting James to tell him that he was bringing Camille along as his date. It was a fleeting thought right after Camille agreed, but then Logan started worrying about what James would say and it was all he could focus on, the way James would react, and it’s not even something he should put thought into because what does it matter? James is dating Jennifer. James has no interest in Logan beyond being his best friend. James doesn’t even have any interest in the same sex, and if he did, Logan’s positive it wouldn’t be him.

Why would it be? He’s Logan; he’s dorky, he’s nerdy, he kind of sucks in social situations, he’d rather spend his time reading a biography than a fashion magazine, he’s not into the performing arts the way James is, he has no real interest in sports beyond a passing appreciation of hockey, mostly due to playing when he was younger, he doesn’t really care how he looks, comfortable in khakis and button-ups and sweatervests - which only add to his level of dorkiness - and they’re just - they’re too different and in no way would James ever want him.

It doesn’t matter anyway, Logan tells himself. James is straight. James is his best friend. James is unattainable and he needs to accept it.

“Alright,” Camille says, clapping her hands loudly. “Quit thinking whatever depressing thoughts you’re thinking. It’s bringing my mood down, all that brooding going on on your face.”

“Sorry,” Logan says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t be,” Camille replies. “I get it. Or y’know, I don’t, but it sucks even for me, having to watch you go through all this.”

Logan smiles softly at her, reaching out to tug at a curl, a silent thank you, you’re the best, I love you.

“Now c’mon, let’s go get you dressed up,” Camille says, bounding up off the sofa.

“What? Why?” Logan asks, panicked. He doesn’t want to have to dress up. He just wants to wear what he’s already wearing.

“It’s a date, doofus, that’s why,” Camille replies, laughing.

Logan grumbles, but relents anyway, letting Camille drag him up to his room. She starts throwing different shirts at him, quickly followed by numerous pairs of jeans, half of which he wasn’t even aware he owned, and when she’s done raiding his closet, she turns to him and says, “Well, what are you waiting for? Go try all those on.”

“All of it?” Logan asks, staring down at the pile in horror. “That’s going to take forever, Cam.”

“Exactly, which is why you need to move your butt,” Camille says, pointing him to the bathroom.

With a sigh, Logan takes the pile of clothes and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door loudly behind him.

\--

What feels like hours later, Logan’s finally got an outfit on that Camille approves of. The jeans he’s wearing feel a little too tight, but Camille keeps reassuring him that they look good, and the shirt he’s wearing is a plain gray v-neck, worn under a maroon cardigan.

“Not bad, Logan,” Camille says, giving him an appreciative once over. “Now your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Logan asks, hands flying to the top of his head.

“Nothing. Just gonna re-spike it,” Camille replies, digging through her messenger bag and producing a bottle of hair gel. She spends a lot longer than Logan usually does, twisting and tugging until each strand is in the place she wants it to be. “You clean up real good, Mitchell.”

“Don’t call me that,” Logan says, poking Camille in the stomach in retaliation, smirking when she jumps back with a squeal.

“Mean,” she says, smiling. “Now move, I need to get ready now.”

It barely takes Camille any time to get ready and when she emerges from the bathroom, she’s wearing jeans that really are tighter than they should be, at least in Logan’s opinion, and a floral, flowy shirt. Her hair’s been restyled, pulled back into a messy braid, curls flying loose, and she’s so beautiful that it makes Logan’s breath hitch.

“You look great, Cam,” Logan says softly, moving in closer to her, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I know,” she retorts, eyes twinkling. “Okay, mister, we’ve got a date to get to.”

\--

The nerves hit full-force once they’re in Camille’s car and on their way to the diner. The churning of his stomach is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to, but this time it’s a stronger feeling, and he feels like he could be sick from it. It’s easier when he has to deal with James and Jennifer right from the jump, but now there’s the anticipation of seeing them, and adding into it his sudden date with Camille, he’s pretty sure he’s going to develop an ulcer by the time the night’s over.

“We’re here,” Camille says, and it’s so sudden in the silence that’s filled the car that Logan jumps, hand flying to his chest.

“Jeez, Camille, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

“You’re so dramatic, Logan,” Camille says, shaking her head. She turns the car off then unfastens her seatbelt, climbing out of the car.

Logan follows seconds later, willing his heart rate to return to normal.

“You gonna hold my hand, Logan?” Camille asks, batting her eyelashes playfully.

Logan flushes and stammers, much to Camille’s amusement. “I guess I should. Makes sense since they think this is a date, right?”

“I was kidding, Logan. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Camille responds, already walking in the direction of the entrance.

Logan catches up to her, but instead of lacing their fingers together, he places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her carefully, even though he knows she doesn’t need it.

When they walk inside, the diner is already packed, every table and booth taken. It’s to be expected, being a Friday night, and the first weekend it’s open, Logan realizes. It’s a nice, retro kind of place, black and white squared flooring, flamingo pink and turquoise vinyl seats, jukebox in the corner.

“This is nice,” Logan says, though the brightness of the pink is a little jarring.

“It’s…different,” Camille says, leaning in close so only Logan will hear.

Logan spots James and Jennifer then, and he sighs, mentally preparing himself for another night of torture. Camille grabs his hand, squeezes it in reassurance, then Logan’s leading them to the table James has saved for them.

\--

James kind of loves the diner. It's like a step back in time and it gets even better when he sees that the waitresses are zipping around on roller skates.

"How cool is this?" he says, spreading his hands out over the tabletop.

"Hmm," is Jennifer's reply and James is barely able to hold back his sigh. It's getting a lot harder these days for James to ignore Jennifer's complete disinterest in almost everything they do. He likes her, he really does, and he's sure she likes him; it's just that they never seem to be able to agree on anything and it causes so much discord between them. James is pretty sure the only reason they're still together is because they have a mutual respect for the others' 'never been dumped' record, ridiculous as it may be. 

He hates that this is how he's spending his senior year, stuck in a relationship neither of them want to be the one to end. It's a fucked up situation to be in at their age - James is well aware of that fact - but with school ending in only a few months, it gives them both an out without tarnishing their record. 

"Logan and Camille are here," Jennifer says. She sighs like it's the biggest hardship of her life, having to be around his best friend, and it's like this every time, but he just can’t make himself be alone with her and it’s easier having Logan around as a kind of buffer. He’s aware of how shitty that makes him seem, but.

"Can we just get through this night, please?" James asks, gritting his teeth. 

"Whatever."

James barely manages to resist banging his head against the tabletop. Sometimes he really just wants to say to hell with her never been dumped record and break up with her already. It really isn't worth all this stress. He's too young, dammit, and it's going to give him zits and stress lines and his hair will go limp and lifeless, and oh, god.

"Hey, guys," Camille says, sliding into the booth next to Jennifer, Logan sliding in beside James. 

"Hey, Camille. You look lovely tonight," James says, winking. It causes Camille to raise her eyebrow and James only shrugs in response. It's not a crime for him to appreciate good looks, and if Logan is going to be dating Camille, it's his duty as a best friend to make her feel welcome. 

James really needs to talk to Logan about that: his relationship with Camille. He knows they had dated in the past, though it wasn't for long, but he wasn't aware that Logan had feelings for Camille again. It's not that he expects Logan to tell him everything he's feeling, every time he has a crush on someone, he just kind of thought Logan would want to tell him about it.

To say conversation is stilted and awkward would be a bit of an understatement. Jennifer seems much more interested in picking at her nails than what’s going on around her and the only thing James even wants to talk about is Logan and Camille and how that came about, but it’s probably not the best thing to discuss right now.

It’s weird for him, being on this side, watching Logan act all flustered, stuttering and blushing when Camille leans in to whisper something to him. There’s this uneasiness he feels, this – this jealousy over how easy their relationship seems to be, how well they get along, and he wants something like that for himself where there isn’t constant arguing and bickering over every little thing, where things just are, like it’s effortless and carefree.

“It’s okay that we’re heading out after we eat, right?” Logan asks, pulling James away from being stuck in his head.

“I – uh – yeah. That’s cool. Don’t let us mess with the rest of your plans,” James says, though he wants to tell them that no, it’s not cool, that he needs them to stay because he cannot – does not – want to deal with Jennifer tonight, or god, please, let him tag along with them, he’s totally okay with being the third wheel, anything to save him from being alone with Jennifer.

Despite how selfish he wants to be, once they finish eating and pay the bill, James lets Logan and Camille leave, tells Logan he’ll see him tomorrow or something. It’s rare that they don’t spend a Saturday together, so James is a little surprised when Logan tells him that he and Camille have plans tomorrow, too.

“Oh, okay. Not a problem, dude,” James says, and the burger he ate feels like a ton of rocks sitting in the pit of his stomach now. He didn’t think Logan would be that kind of person, the one who ditches his friends because he’s dating someone and he doesn’t know what to do with that. It’s not like he doesn’t have other friends he could hang out with; it’s just that Logan’s his best friend and he prefers spending his time with Logan rather than spending it with anyone else.

“I’ll call you Sunday or something, okay?” Logan says softly, almost like an apology.

“Don’t worry about it, Logan. Have a good weekend, both of you,” James says, mustering up a smile that both Logan and Camille meet, though theirs looks less forced than James’ feels.

“Can we get out of here?” Jennifer asks, causing James to wince. For a minute, he forgot she was even with them, and it makes him feel a hundred times worse. This night really just kind of sucks.

“Sure,” James replies. “Where’re we going?”

Home. Please let her say home.

“Mercedes is having this huge party tonight. Told her we’d make an appearance,” Jennifer says, following James to his car.

Great. Just what James wants.

“Let’s go, I guess,” he says, resigned.

\--

It doesn’t take long to get to Mercedes’ house – mansion, really – and it takes almost double that time to find somewhere to park. By the time they make it inside, it looks like the party has been in full swing all night, crowded to the point of almost overfilled, bodies pushed together everywhere, and that’s no small feat, considering the massive size of the place.

There’s the pervading smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke, and it’s like they’re at a bar instead of someone’s house.

“I’m gonna get something to drink,” Jennifer says, leaning in close so James can hear her over the sound of the blaring music and people talking.

James decides what the hell, he’s here already, might as well try to enjoy it, and follows Jennifer to where the drinks are set up, surprised at the sheer amount of alcohol, wondering where the hell Mercedes got it all from. He really hopes this party doesn’t get busted, but from what he’s heard about Mercedes’ parties, this is nothing out of the norm. 

He grabs a bottle of beer from the tub of ice they’re sitting in and twists off the cap, drinking it slow until it starts going down smooth, and then he quickly finishes off the rest, grabbing another before walking off.  
Jennifer’s at his side, apparently not as comfortable with the party scene as James thought she was, and they head outback to the pool where there are even more people milling about, a guitar playing softly in the background.

James loses track of time, floats between the pool and the drink area until the world is spinning around him and he can barely hold himself up. Jen’s not faring much better and it only takes a second before he makes the decision to pull her out of the crowd and into a deserted area of the house, opening doors until he finds what he’s sure is a guest bedroom.

“Sleep,” he says, guiding her towards the bed. His head feels weird, fuzzy, and he can’t seem to get a grip on any one thought other than sleeping all this alcohol off.

Jennifer catches him around the wrist, and the sudden movement causes James to topple over onto the bed, laughing like it’s the funniest thing that’s happened to him in forever, balance shot to shit.

“S’goin’ on?” James asks when his laughter’s died down.

“You…are really hot, James,” Jennifer says, giggling, pressing herself up against James’ side.

This isn’t news to James. He knows he’s attractive, but he appreciates hearing it nonetheless, especially from Jennifer because seriously? She’s a knockout herself, all soft curves and gorgeous eyes, silky soft blonde hair and even softer lips, and James doesn’t resist when they’re suddenly against his, sticky from leftover lip gloss.  
It’s not like he and Jennifer have never made out before, it just hasn’t been something they’ve done lately. There’ve been little kisses here and there, more for show than anything, but now it’s like nothing before, harder, more urgent, like a fire has been lit in both of them, and it’s all lips and teasing little nips, soothed by slick swipes of tongue.

Before James even knows what’s happening, Jennifer is shimmying out of her dress and straddling his lap, and oh, oh, he is so on board with this plan, pulling off his shirt and tossing it somewhere off to the side, holding tight to her hips when she starts rocking against him.

James knows he should say something, knows he should stop this, that it's only going to make things worse between them, but, god, Jennifer's lips are trailing along the line of his jaw and all he can think of is how good this feels.

He places a hand on the center of her back, holding her carefully as he flips them, settling her beneath him. She's looking up at him in wonderment, chest rising and falling rapidly, and all James can do is lean in and kiss her, the taste of alcohol swimming around him, dizzying him, and he loses himself in it all, the taste, the touch, the smell, until all he can focus on is the pleasure flooding through him and the soft sighs coming from beneath him.

\--

The pain in his head is the first thing James is aware of when he wakes up, quickly followed by the warm body tucked against his side. Everything floods back in a mess of flashes and sensations, and James' only thought is 'oh, fuck.'

"Jen, c'mon, wake up," James whispers, gently shaking her shoulder. 

"What?" Jennifer grunts out in reply, trying to pull the blanket up over her head. She stops, freezes, realization dawning that she's lacking clothing and promptly sits up, smacking James in the arm, hard, pulling every bit of blanket around her.

"Oh, god," she cries, covering her face with her hands. "Tell me that didn't happen."

"I'm pretty sure it did," James replies. "I'm uh - I'm gonna go," he says, and he knows it’s a dick move, but he really doesn’t want to be here right now, doesn’t want to have to deal with this when his head is pounding and his stomach is churning.

"No, you are not. I'm not a one night stand you can ditch, James. I'm your girlfriend," Jennifer says, voice tight. 

"A girlfriend who doesn't even act like it half the time," James grits out, clutching his head at the sharp throb of pain that hits. Fucking hangover.

"You do not get to lay that all on me, James. You're so preoccupied with Logan always being with us that you never even pay attention to me."

No. There is no way James is going to let her place all the blame on Logan. It's all kinds of bullshit that James can't even wrap his head around. 

"Did you ever think for a moment that the only reason Logan's even around all the time is because being alone with you is like having a tooth ripped out?"

"Screw you, James. Maybe if you'd actually put a little effort into our relationship, it wouldn't be so bad, but instead, Logan's always there, acting like a buffer, and I end up being the third wheel on our dates."

James sighs, running a hand through his hair. "That's not how it is at all, Jen," he says, voice softer, less angry. "We never seem to agree on anything. We're always arguing over what to do and where to go, and it's tiring. We can't even talk without arguing."

"Because every time you want to do something or go somewhere, Logan's always inserted into our plans, James. I get it, Logan's your best friend and you don't like that he's left out all the time, but I'm your girlfriend and I want to spend time with you without Logan always being there. Do you have any idea how much it sucks having to sit back and listen to you and Logan going on and on about whatever it is you two talk about? You never pay me that kind of attention, James."

James closes his eyes, wondering why they’re having this conversation now. He knows it’s something that should’ve been addressed a lot sooner, beyond the brief discussion they had months ago when they decided that no matter what, they wanted to leave high school with their never been dumped records intact.

He didn’t realize Jennifer was so perceptive, picking up on Logan being a buffer between them, but more than that, having Logan around helps him feel comfortable, more at ease with everything around him. It’s how it’s always been for him, granted, he never took Logan along on so many dates before – or any, really – but then again, he’s never quite had a relationship like the one he has with Jennifer.

There’ve always been rumors surrounding him, pegging him as the love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy, and while he’s never quite done anything to dispel those rumors, it’s not who he is at all. Sure, he’s dated his fair share of the female high school population, fooled around with quite a few of them, but it was never anything serious. It’s high school; relationships shouldn’t be serious. They should be about having fun, meeting new people, experiencing things, not looking for a lifelong commitment.

But his relationship with Jennifer, it’s the longest he’s ever had. He was instantly attracted to her when she transferred in about a month after the school year started, and he’ll admit that he was a little less than his usual smooth self when it came to talking to her, but for some reason, she found it cute and endearing, and the first couple months were great, up until it seemed that she wanted it to be more serious than it was.

Maybe it’s James’ fault their relationship has turned into what it is, because at the first hint of her wanting them to be more serious of a couple, that’s when he started inviting Logan along, pretty much ignoring her save for the few kisses he’d give her or the way he’d hold her hand when they walked somewhere.

It’s not something he’s proud of, and it’s not something he really understands, why the idea of anything serious with Jennifer freaked him out so much, but with Logan around, none of that mattered. Nothing really matters when Logan’s around, and James is starting to see where Jennifer’s coming from.

“I’m sorry, Jen,” James says, reaching over to grab her hand, holding it between both of his. “I didn’t – I don’t know. I screwed up this relationship and I treated you like crap. Things just kind of got a little serious and I dunno, kinda freaked me out, I guess, and having Logan around, I dunno, kinda made things easier, I guess.”

“That’s probably something you should examine a little more closely, James,” Jennifer says, sighing, pulling her hand away from James’, wrapping her arm around herself.

“Uh – what?”

“Nothing, never mind,” she mutters. “Can you turn around or something so I can get dressed?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” James says quickly, turning to face the wall. The bed shifts from the weight of Jennifer climbing off, and moments later there’s the rustling of clothing and the zip of a zipper sliding into place.

“Done,” Jennifer says, then, “Can we just pretend last night never happened? We were drunk and it shouldn’t have happened and I don’t want it getting out and people thinking I’m easy or something,” and she’s looking down at her hands, twisting her fingers together and James can’t help but reach for them, holding them loosely in his own hands.

“It doesn’t make you easy, Jennifer,” James says, brushing his thumbs over her knuckles, “but I’m not gonna tell anyone either way.”

“Thanks, James,” Jennifer replies, heartfelt.

“Wanna get some breakfast?” James asks.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” says Jennifer, smiling softly. “But you should probably get dressed first.”

James laughs, groaning when it makes the throb in his head flare up again. “How are you not hungover?”

“I’m just that awesome,” Jennifer replies with a wink, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.

“That you are, Jen, that are you.”

James dresses quickly, ducking into the bathroom adjoining the bedroom to take care of the incessant throb of his bladder, then fixes his hair and splashes his face with cold water before joining Jennifer back in the bedroom, only to have her retreat to the bathroom the moment he’s done.

“Alright, we’re all set,” Jennifer says when she emerges, smudged makeup all taken care of.

“C’mon, let’s go eat,” James says, taking Jennifer’s hand in his own, leading them through the maze of hallways that takes them to the front door.

Maybe, James thinks, their relationship is still salvageable for the four months they’ve got left of high school.

If only he could stop thinking about what Jennifer meant when she said he ought to examine why having Logan around makes things easier for him. 

\--

Logan doesn't call James Sunday like he said he would. It's not that he doesn't want to, but every time he tries to sneak a text or make the call, Camille's dragging him away to watch another movie or help with her homework or help make something to eat. He just kind of forgets after a while and by the time he goes home later that night, he realizes he hasn't looked at his phone once in more than five hours. Even weirder, there are no missed calls or texts from James, and it makes Logan a little uneasy. He'd expected James to blow up his phone, wondering where he was, but faced with the fact that that's not the case makes Logan's stomach lurch.

"Did you have a good time at Camille's?" his mom asks, looking up from the pile of paper she's flipping through.

"Yeah, it was alright," Logan replies. This is one of the reasons Logan loves his parents, the absolute trust they have in him. When he mentioned staying at Camille's for the weekend because her parents were out of town, they didn't hesitate to let him stay with her. 

"You're responsible and smart and you've got a good head on your shoulders," they said. "We trust that you won't do anything you're not supposed to."

Logan had flushed crimson at that. No doubt that his parents meant sex, and while awkward and embarrassing as it was, he couldn't even reconcile having sex with Camille in his head. She's like a sister to him. 

"Homework finished?" 

"Almost. Just have some reading I need to finish for history," Logan says. "I'm gonna head upstairs so I can finish it. I’ll probably go to sleep right after. Camille kept me up late all weekend and woke me up really early, so I'm exhausted. Love you, mom."

He leans in, presses a kiss to her cheek and climbs the stairs to his room, falling back on his bed. He really is tired. He doesn't understand how Camille keeps such a crazy sleep schedule and manages to look so well-rested every day.

Sighing, he pulls his history book from his backpack and flips it open to the section he needs, falling asleep the minute he finishes the last sentence.

\--

James isn’t at Logan’s locker the next morning like he usually is, and it’s hard for him to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He runs through every scenario he can think of as to why James isn’t there and his brain latches on to the idea that James found out about how he feels, that James is sick and disgusted with him, doesn’t want to be around him, and all he can do is remind himself to breathe, that that would never happen, that James wouldn’t do that to him.

“Hey, where’s James?” Camille asks, poking Logan in the side.

“Um, I don’t know,” Logan replies, busying himself with grabbing the materials he’ll need for his first two classes.

“Huh. That’s weird,” Camille comments. She leans against the closed locker next to Logan’s, crossing her arms over her chest.

“W-what do you mean?” Logan asks. It comes out quiet, hesitant, curious, like he’s afraid to find out if Camille knows something that she’s not telling him.

“Just used to seeing James here in the mornings with you, that’s all,” Camille replies, shrugging her shoulders. “Walk me to my locker?”

Logan nods, adjusting his grip on his books before closing his locker, falling into step beside Camille as they make their way through the crowded hallway to her locker across the school. Around the corner from Camille’s locker, Logan freezes where he stands, only moving when he gets pushed out of the way.

“You okay?” Camille asks, her hand coming to rest on Logan’s forearm.

Logan doesn’t answer, can’t answer, words suddenly failing him. His eyes are stuck on the sight in front of him, James leaning against the locker beside Jennifer’s, smiling brightly as he listens to something she’s saying to him.

It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but it hits him like a ton of bricks this time, how happy James is with her, how enamored he is, and it’s like something’s changed between them, like there’s suddenly more happiness and comfort between the two of them, and when Logan realizes what it is that’s changed, he feels like his heart has been ripped out of his chest and thrown into a blender.

“I uh – I gotta go,” Logan says, and he turns away, bolting through the crowd of people around him. He’s not stupid, okay. He never expected James to not have sex with Jennifer; he just kind of didn’t want to believe it would ever happen.

It makes sense, really. It’s what almost every high school couple does when they’ve been together for a few months, some even sooner, that nagging need to give into what your peers are doing around you so there’s no chance of feeling left out, for getting mocked or teased because you haven’t gone all the way. It’s a stupid thing to give into; it’s no one’s business who’s hooking up and who’s not, and Logan’s sick with the idea that that’s why James did it.

He knows James has hooked up before, has had to listen to James tell him about it on numerous occasions, but Logan’s almost certain James hadn’t gone all the way with any of those girls. He’s pretty sure he would’ve had to listen to James brag about that for days.

That’s one of the few things Logan doesn’t really like about James, the way he’d brag about who he hooked up with. It’s not that Logan’s a prude or anything, he just finds the whole thing demeaning, to both James and the girl. What happens in the bedroom should stay in the bedroom. Or basement. Or backseat of her car. Wherever.

But the ease and comfort and looks James was giving Jennifer, Logan’s seen it before in all the couples he knows of that’ve had sex. There’s no denying that that’s what happened, no matter how much he wishes it wasn’t true.

Nothing like being in love with your straight best friend.

\--

Getting through the day proves to be a challenge. Logan can’t bring himself to care about anything going on in any of his classes, just wants to get out of the building as fast as he can, into the safety and privacy of his bedroom.

Lunch is quite possibly the worst part of the day and for the first time, Logan wishes he didn’t have the same lunch hour as James.

It’s not like James is sitting at another table, but for all the attention he’s paying to Logan, he might as well be clear across the cafeteria. His attention seems to be focused solely on Jennifer and the only time he even bothered to acknowledge Logan was to give him a curt nod of his head when he and Jennifer sat down across from him.

It’s entirely too much for him to swallow right now. “I’m outta here,” he says, but neither James nor Jennifer seems to have heard him. He grabs his lunch tray and pushes away from the table, walking off to dispose of it while he shakes his head. He doesn’t look back as he leaves the lunchroom, anger boiling hot in his stomach.

James has never done this before, has never flat out ignored him for the sake of a girlfriend. He’s trying to understand, but he can’t. He didn’t think James was the kind of person that would start ignoring their best friend the moment things got serious with their significant other.

It hurts like nothing else he’s ever known before. He’d long ago accepted that the most he’d ever get from James was their close friendship, and it has always been enough for him no matter how much he wished they could have more. Now it’s like he doesn’t even have that.

Frustrated, Logan makes his way to his next class, grateful that it’s calculus, something he knows he’ll be able to put all his focus into.

\--

Camille is waiting at Logan’s locker when the last class ends. He’s torn between the feelings of relief and irritation at the sight of her. He knows without a doubt that Camille will listen to everything he has to say, but he doesn’t even want to think about it, let alone talk about it, especially when he’s almost certain he knows what Camille’s reaction is going to be, what she’s going to say.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says when he approaches her.

“Can I at least get the books I need?” Logan asks in response, jerking his head towards his locker.

“If you insist,” Camille replies, sighing dramatically.

After shoving the books he needs into his backpack, Logan and Camille make their way through the hallway to the parking lot where their cars are parked.

“Your place?” Camille asks, rifling through her purse for her keys.

“Sure.”

“’kay,” Camille replies, weaving her way through the parking lot, the distant sounds of her yelling at some idiot driver making Logan chuckle. 

Camille is a fireball, unafraid to say what she’s thinking or to do what she wants, others’ opinions be damned. She’s loud and in your face, a touch overdramatic, but she’s also sweet and caring, a shoulder to lean on no matter what. She’s one of the best people Logan’s ever known.

After what seems like forever, Logan’s finally able to pull out of the parking lot and onto the road. After-school traffic makes him a nervous driver, paranoid that one of these days some inexperienced driver is going to cause an accident. It’s a justified thought, what with the way more than half the teen drivers seem to be more concerned about checking their texts than what’s happening on the road. He’s always able to breathe a little easier when he’s free from the backed-up traffic the end of the school day causes.

By the time he pulls into the driveway of his house, Camille’s already there, leaning against the side of her car, messenger bag slung across her body.

“What took you so long, slowpoke?” she asks when he exits his car, walking up to meet him.

“How did you even get here so quickly?” Logan asks in turn, opening the door to grab his backpack from the backseat.

“I’ll never tell.” Camille mimes zipping her lips and tossing away the key.

Logan shakes his head fondly, shouldering his backpack and making his way to the front door. He’s surprised to find his mom home already, papers spread out on the coffee table in the living room.

“Don’t mind me,” she says when she notices them. “I have a showing in twenty minutes and I can’t find the papers I need.”

“Did you check the desk in the office?”

His mom quickly darts off in the direction of the office, an ‘aha’ following seconds later.

“Thanks, honey,” she says when she returns, gathering up her mess of papers and tucking them into her briefcase. “Hey, Camille, sorry about all this,” she adds, gesturing to the now clean coffee table.

“Hey, Mrs. M. It’s alright; I tend to misplace things pretty often, so I know how it goes,” Camille replies.

“Alright, I gotta go, otherwise I’m going to be late,” Mrs. Mitchell says. “I should be back in an hour or two.”

The front door opens and closes, then opens again. “Logan, I need you to move your car so I can get out of the garage.”

“Here, you can use my car instead,” Logan says, tossing her his keys. She looks as though she’s about to say something, tell Logan no, that she wants to use her car and can he please just move his so she can get out? but she glances down at her watch and sighs, relenting.

“Homework,” Logan says to Camille when the door clicks shut behind his mom.

Camille’s face scrunches in distaste, but she follows Logan into the dining room, spreading their books out on opposite ends of the table.

It’s quiet, pages being turned and pens scratching across paper the only audible sounds. At least until Camille starts talking.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” she asks, setting her pen down on top of her notebook.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Logan replies, pen flying across the paper as he takes notes.

“Why’d you take off like that this morning, then?” she questions in typical Camille fashion.

Logan groans, letting his pen drop. He should’ve known he wasn’t going to be able to keep it from Camille for long. He’s a little surprised Camille didn’t hunt him down during school and get him to talk to her then.

“Just more James and Jennifer stuff,” he says, shrugging, hoping that if he plays it off as it not being a big deal, Camille will let it drop for now. Of course, his life just doesn’t work that way.

“What happened now?” she prods, voice slipping into a softer, soothing tone.

“I don’t know, Cam. First this morning when he wasn’t at my locker, it didn’t bother me that much, y’know? Just figured he was late or something, but then I saw him at Jennifer’s locker and I just – the way they were around each other this morning, pretty sure something happened between them this weekend,” explains Logan.

Camille doesn’t say anything. She’s not even looking at Logan right now, and it instantly piques Logan’s curiosity. 

“What do you know?” he asks, voice even despite the way his nerves are a jumbled mess.

“Just heard some things,” Camille says, vague as all get out.

“Cam,” Logan says firmly.

“They uh – they went to a party Friday night after we left the diner. Guess they both had a little too much to drink and ended up…y’know,” Camille answers.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I figured happened,” Logan says softly. It was one thing for him to speculate based on how they acted, but to have it proven is something else entirely.

He hates that it hurts this much, hates that it’s getting to him so deeply. It’s not like it should even matter. There was no chance of James wanting him before he slept with Jennifer and there’s no chance now. He never had any kind of chance being more than James’ friend.

“I take it that that’s not all that’s bothering you,” Camille says, rising from her seat to sit closer to Logan.

“He pretty much blew me off at lunch,” Logan admits. “He didn’t say anything to me, barely even acknowledged I was sitting at the same table.”

“Logan, I’m sorry,” Camille says in a whisper, placing her hand on Logan’s forearm.

“No, don’t be,” Logan says, shaking his head. “It’s stupid of me to get this worked up over it. I mean, I didn’t think he was that kind of person, didn’t think he’d blow me off the minute things got serious with Jennifer, but clearly he proved me wrong. It’s fine. It’s whatever.”

“Logan,” Camille starts, interrupted as Logan continues like she didn’t say anything at all.

“If that’s how he wants thing to be, fine. I’m done falling over myself to make him happy. It’s done nothing but make me miserable. I love him, Cam, I really do, but I just can’t be around him anymore. I can’t keep doing this to myself. Enough is enough, y’know? I just…” Logan trails off, sucking in a deep breath.

Camille gets out of her chair and moves to stand behind Logan’s, draping her arms loosely around Logan’s neck and placing a kiss to the side of his head. “I really am sorry,” she says, and Logan wishes that her apologizing would make everything better.

It doesn’t. It doesn’t make anything better, doesn’t make his heart hurt any less, doesn’t make him love James any less, and he hates this so fucking much.

“C’mon, forget your homework. Let’s go watch a movie,” Camille says, tugging at Logan’s shoulder.

Logan relents without a fight, trailing after Camille into the living room. He lets her pick the movie, draping his arm around her when she curls up against his side, letting the sounds of whatever she’s chosen wash over him, unable to focus on anything that’s not James.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a lot easier to cut off his ties with James than Logan thought. It’s probably more due to the fact that he seems so wrapped up in Jennifer he doesn’t notice much going on around him, but Logan will count it as a win. Or something. It hurts, yeah, hurts like hell, James who’s been his best friend for years, James who he loves more than he thought possible, but he knows deep down that this is how it has to be.

He wasn’t lying when he told Camille that he’s been miserable, and he’s sure she knows that. Every time he had to go along with James on his dates with Jennifer, it was like someone was stabbing his heart repeatedly, teasing him with what he could never have.

Cutting James out hasn’t made him any less miserable, though. If anything, it’s made it even worse than it was before because now he doesn’t have James in any way. He knows it’s what he needs to do if he wants any chance of happiness, even if it hurts.

Camille’s good at making it easier, though. Between school and homework and spending the majority of his free time with her, it gives him little time to dwell on things. Then Camille signs up for the spring play – which confuses the hell out of Logan because seriously? There are only two months left of the school year and surely that can’t be enough time – and Logan’s roped into running lines with her every moment he’s available, and even times when he’s not.

The play is ready in a month’s time and he goes to support Camille every night it’s performed, sitting front row by himself, with his parents, or with Camille’s parents, and he leads the audience in a standing ovation every time.

There’s a part of him that hoped maybe James would be in the play since he had been in every other performance their school has put on, but there’s no sign of James anywhere, not even in the audience, and he instantly hates himself for even looking for him.

Camille tells him he doesn’t have to be there for every performance, but there’s really nowhere else Logan would rather be. Besides, it’s not like he has any other options. Still, he wouldn’t miss supporting Camille in favor of something else, especially after all she’s done for him.

After the curtains drop closing night and the cast has come out and taken their bows, Camille pulls Logan off to the side and tells him about a party one of the guys in the cast is throwing.

“He says it’s gonna be awesome and I really wanna go, but I don’t want to go by myself and look like a loser, so you have to come with,” she says, bouncing on the tips of her toes. “Please?” She sticks her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, eyes soft and liquidy like she’s about to start crying if Logan doesn’t say yes.

“The things I do for you,” Logan says, but he’s smiling even as he shakes his head. “Go get dressed. I’ll be out here waiting.”

“You’re the best!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him with all she’s got before she bounces off in a blur of flowing curls.

Seriously, the things he does for her.

\--

The cast party seems like any other high school party Logan’s ever heard of and he’s 99.9% sure the majority of the people in attendance weren’t even part of the cast or crew of the play. He’s not sure what he was expecting, maybe something quieter, a little more low-key, but the house they’re at is full of booming music and red plastic cups being passed around, flocks of people everywhere shouting to be heard over the thundering music.

“You sure you wanna stay here?” Logan asks, leaning in close so Camille will hear him.

Camille looks a little iffy, eyes darting around everywhere, but she leans in and says, “We’ll stay for a little while, just to say I was here. I’m not feeling this whole big party thing.”

Logan’s in full agreement with her. He’s not a big fan of partying in general, and especially not parties of this size. He sticks close to Camille, following her through the crowd of people until they get to the kitchen where the drinks are at. She hands him a red cup, lifting a shoulder as if to say ‘why not’ and grabs one for herself, taking a sip and grimacing at the taste.

“Oh, god, this is gross,” she says, waving her hand in front of her face like it’ll make the taste disappear.

“You know we don’t have to drink anything, right, Cam?” Logan asks, looking down at the cup in his hand. He lifts it to his nose to smell, pulling it away almost immediately at the overpowering scent.

“No, I know,” Camille says, but she lifts the cup to her lips and takes another drink, grimacing once again. “Just one cup, we’ll mingle around a little, then we can go.”

Logan would rather it be no cup, mingle around a little, then go, but it’s high school and you only live once, so he figures why the hell not; it’s practically a tradition for every high schooler to drink at parties. It’s not that he’s one for giving in to peer pressure, it’s just that this is probably his last chance to be an actual high school student that isn’t focused solely on his studies. Maybe it’s time he breaks free from that shell and lives a little.

\--

By the time he finishes his first cup, Logan’s already well on his way to being drunk. He has absolutely no alcohol tolerance and it’s showing. He feels good, though; relaxed, calm, maybe even a little happy, or at least happier than he has been.

He lost sight of Camille a few minutes ago, but he finds that he doesn’t mind too much. Camille’s probably busy reliving the highs and lows of the play with her cast mates so Logan heads back to the kitchen, grabbing another red cup.

Someone reaches for the cup at the same time and Logan snatches his hand back, ready to stammer out an apology when he lifts his head and meets the eyes of the person the hand belongs to.

The guy’s kind of really attractive, hair spiked up similar to the way Logan’s is, bright white teeth surrounded by soft pink lips, eyes a light shade of brown. He kind of – he really kind of resembles James, or he would if his hair wasn’t spiked and his bangs were swept across his forehead, but the resemblance is there, slight as it is, and it immediately sends a surge of want through Logan.

He tamps it down immediately, whispering out his apology as he steps back, prepared to make a quick getaway. 

The guy stops him, offers him the red cup they both were aiming for and says, “I’m Dak,” smiling all big and wide at him.

Logan furrows his brows in confusion, taking the proffered cup before he finally says his name. He doesn’t know why, but something about the way Dak’s looking at him, talking to him, has Logan following him outside where it’s quieter, where there are less people milling about.

There’s this tinge of awkwardness to their conversation, but it fades quickly, or maybe that’s just the beer hitting Logan hard. He finds himself laughing at the stupid things Dak’s saying, reaching out to touch Dak’s arm before he realizes what he’s doing and yanks it back, only for it to happen all over again before he finally gives in and just lets the tips of his fingers graze the skin of Dak’s forearm.

It’s like everything stops in that instant. Logan’s fully prepared to offer some kind of apology, run away as fast as he can, but the look on Dak’s face isn’t one of disgust. It’s more shocked than anything, but it’s replaced by a look that Logan can’t call anything but heated.

Dak’s eyes are moving between Logan’s lips and eyes, back and forth, back and forth, and before Logan can second guess himself, he’s leaning in, and Dak’s leaning in, too, and suddenly their lips are pressed together, soft, hesitant.

Logan pulls back before Dak does, but Dak doesn’t let him get far, leaning in so his lips are brushing Logan’s ear when he asks if Logan wants to go somewhere more private. Logan knows he should say no, that he should find Camille so they can leave and he can forget this night ever happened, but he finds himself nodding his head yes, following when Dak heads back inside the house.

\--

James finds that it’s easier to spend time with Jennifer when they’re not arguing over every little thing. It’s like it was when they first started dating and it reminds James of why he wanted to date her to begin with. She laughs at his jokes, even when he knows they’re not funny, she’s smart and doesn’t laugh when he’s struggling with his homework and asks for help, and she’s just as concerned about how she looks and doesn’t get pissy when James spends longer than he should fixing his hair and clothes before they go to the movies or out to eat.

It’s weird, different without Logan around. He still finds himself turning to say something to Logan before he remembers Logan isn’t there, and then Jennifer’s words are hitting him all over again.

_That’s probably something you should examine a little more closely, James._

It still doesn’t make sense to him, no matter how many different ways he tries analyzing it. It’s glaringly obvious it has to do with him and how he felt more at ease with Logan around, but – he just doesn’t get it.

It wasn’t really a conscious decision on his part, it just kind of happened, devoting almost all his free time to Jennifer. It’s just that after everything that happened the morning after the party, he feels like he owes it to her to be a more attentive boyfriend, even if it means completely forgetting about his best friend, which really does make him feel like shit.

It’s just with Logan around, James finds that he can’t concentrate on anything Jennifer’s doing or saying, and when he does, it just rankles him, like every word that comes out of her mouth is as annoying and cringe-worthy as nails on a chalkboard. It’s for the best for his relationship with Jennifer to be apart from Logan. There are only a couple months left of school, anyways. He just hopes that after all this is said and done that he’ll be able to reconnect with Logan, that their entire friendship isn’t gone.

“James? Are you even listening?” Jennifer jabs a finger into his stomach to catch his attention, sighing dramatically when James finally turns to her.

“Sorry,” James apologizes, pulling their linked hands up and skimming his lips across her knuckles.

Jennifer blushes a pretty shade of pink, tugging their hands back down and swatting James in the chest with her free hand. “You’re so corny,” she says, but there’s a pleased lilt to her voice that makes James smile.

“Now c’mon, help me pick a movie before they all start,” Jennifer says, tilting her head in the direction of the board above them that’s displaying the movies the theatre is currently showing.

If James thinks how much more entertaining seeing a movie would be with Logan there, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.

Even if it does confuse the fuck out of him.

\--

When James doesn’t see Logan at lunch on Monday, it feels a little off. Sure, Logan isn’t sitting at their lunch table anymore, but he’s always easy to spot amongst the other students in the cafeteria. He decides it’s probably nothing worth worrying over, just Logan finishing up a paper or project in the library like he’s done so many times before, and promptly forgets about it.

Tuesday rolls around and James doesn’t see Logan at all, not before school, not during lunch, not after school, and it starts worrying him even more when he notices that Camille isn’t at school, either.

It leaves him distracted all day, worry making his stomach churn unpleasantly.

It’s during his last class of the day on Wednesday that he hears it and immediately dismisses it because surely Logan would’ve told him if – no, nope, just a rumor, has to be because Logan is dating Camille, isn’t he? James is pretty certain Logan and Camille were giving their relationship another go, hoping to make something of it this time compared to the failure it was two years ago.

_“You’re kidding, right? That seriously did not happen.”_

_“Oh, it did. Someone saw them making out in the backyard, and Logan followed Dak to one of the bedrooms.”_

But – but that doesn’t mean they even did anything, James wants to tell them, but there’s no point in saying it. If someone saw them kissing, that’s all the proof anyone needs.

_“Fucking fags.”_

It takes all of James’ self-restraint not to jump out of his desk and punch the asshole sitting behind him. Instead, he clenches his jaw, taps his pen against the textbook he’s no longer paying attention to, emotions swirling inside him.

He’s pissed, beyond pissed, the douchebag behind him using a disgusting word like that in reference to his best friend. Where does he get off thinking it’s okay to use language like that? It makes James’ blood boil. Shit like that is never okay.

He’s upset, so fucking upset that Logan felt like he couldn’t trust him enough to tell him he’s gay. It’s not like it matters any to James. Logan’s still his best friend. Or, well, he likes to think Logan’s still his best friend, but Logan probably feels different about that, not that James blames him in the slightest.

Still, the fact remains that it wouldn’t have changed a single thing about how he sees Logan.

He just doesn’t understand. 

He hates that Logan didn’t tell him; they tell each other everything. Or so he thought. It’s not like they’re two gossiping girls, but James didn’t think there were any secrets between them, at least nothing that big, and it kind of turns him inside out.

It’s all he can think about, long after the school day has ended. Even Jennifer can’t seem to get his mind off of it, and he can tell she’s getting more and more frustrated the longer he’s distracted. He can’t bring himself to care about that right now, can only focus on Logan, the things those douchebags said about him, the way they seemed so disgusted with him. He’s itching with the need to talk to Logan, hand straying to his pocket where his phone is until Jennifer grabs his hand and laces their fingers together, effectively wiping that option off the table.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” she asks, clearly irritated with the lack of attention James is paying her.

“It’s nothing,” James says instantly. It’s resolutely not nothing, but it’s not something he wants to talk to her about. She’s made it quite clear how she feels about his friendship with Logan, and it’s why there’s all this distance between them, this lack of communication that turns James’ stomach, especially now when he feels the need to reach out to Logan more than ever.

“I’m not an idiot, James,” Jennifer replies, but she already sounds bored of the conversation, of the whole situation.

“Seriously, Jen, it’s nothing,” James tries again.

“Right, well, I’m guessing it has to do with the rumors about Logan that are going around the school,” Jennifer says, exasperated.

James swallows the denial on the tip of his tongue, deciding he might as well say something about it because it’s clear Jennifer just isn’t going to let this go.

“Pretty much, yeah,” James says, hoping she’ll leave it at that, but it’s really just not his day.

“Figures,” she mutters, and James doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you were friends with him.”

James whips his head to face her, not wanting to believe what that sentence implies. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I mean, just think about it, James. If you were friends with him now, people would probably think you’re a fag, too.”

James really can’t believe what he’s hearing. That word, that stupid fucking word, makes his stomach lurch.

“Are you kidding me right now?” he asks, ripping his hand away from hers. “Logan is still my best friend. Whatever happened or whatever he is doesn’t change that. I can’t – I somehow expected better from you. I didn’t think you’d be a homophobic idiot.”

“Some best friend you are,” Jennifer snarks back. “Dropping him like he’s yesterday’s news.”

“I did that for you,” James says, voice slipping deeper, louder, “because you didn’t like that he was more important to me, couldn’t handle him always being around even though I wanted him to be because he was my best fucking friend, dammit.”

“That’s exactly what I mean!” Jennifer shouts back. “It was always Logan this, Logan that, and you never cared about me when he was around. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re in love with him.”

James can’t help laughing because seriously? Is Jennifer not listening to a word that’s coming out of her own mouth? It’s fucking ridiculous.

“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard,” James says. “What part of ‘he’s my best friend’ are you not understanding?”

“The part where anyone with eyes can see how he’s in love with you!”

“Get out,” James says, so fucking over this conversation. Nothing she says is going to turn him against Logan. She can make up all the stupid lies she wants, create whatever scenarios in her head she sees fit, but it’s not going to change how James feels about the situation.

“What?” she asks, surprised, like she can’t believe James is actually kicking her out of his house.

“I said _get out_. I don’t – this is over. Screw your damn perfect never been dumped record. Hell, if it makes you feel better, you can tell people you dumped me. I don’t even care, I just want you out.”

Jennifer is visibly shocked at the turn of events, but she collects her things and disappears, slamming the door shut behind her.

James falls back onto the sofa, cradling his head in his hands. He didn’t expect any of that to happen; not that disgusting word coming from Jennifer’s mouth, the wild accusations she threw out, and least of all, breaking up with her. The moment she spit out that word, though, James knew it was over. It should’ve happened months ago, when things were at their worst, when they couldn’t even stand to be around each other without fighting. One night had to screw up everything, and jesus. She planned for that whole night to happen; she had to. Her lack of hangover the following morning, the conversation that took place, all of it was her plan to – to, fuck, James doesn’t even know anymore.

_That’s probably something you should examine a little more closely, James._

_If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re in love with him._

She’s wrong, so absolutely wrong. Logan is his friend, his best friend; that’s all there is to it. Yes, okay, he enjoys having Logan around, but what’s so wrong with that? It’s not a crime for a guy to enjoy being around another guy.

And, okay, he can understand where Jennifer’s coming from. Kind of. It really wasn’t fair to her how often Logan tagged along on their dates, but it wasn’t like that when they first started dating. It was just the seriousness of the relationship Jennifer seemed to be pushing and it wasn’t what James wanted at all. It wasn’t logical the way he handled it, but he did the only thing he could think of whenever he felt uneasy: he went to Logan.  
But still. There’s no reason for Jennifer to have said what she did, and if she really thought he was in love with Logan, why even stay with him? It’s evident that Jennifer has a complete dislike for gay people, so, what? Did she think that if James was actually in love with Logan that her being with him would change that?

God. James really can’t even wrap his head around being in love with Logan. The more the phrase runs through his head, the funnier it seems to get. It’s just – it’s so fucking out there, and as for the other thing. No, nope, no way in hell. 

There’s just no way Logan could be in love with him, especially after the way he’s been treating Logan lately. He’s been a terrible friend, he knows he has, and if Logan had been in love with him, he’s probably not now. And anyways, it’s not even something James feels he should be worrying about. It’s not what’s important, not really.

Not having seen Logan at all this week is what’s important. If Logan’s heard the things people are saying about him, James is almost positive Logan is not okay. With Jennifer finally gone, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials Logan’s number, heart plummeting to his stomach as he’s informed that the number is no longer in service.

He tries again, dialing the number slowly, double and triple-checking that the number is correct.

_We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service._

James just barely resists throwing his phone against the wall after he hangs up.

Without a second thought, James grabs his keys and walks outside, climbing into his car and driving a route he knows like the back of his hand.

When he sees the car in the driveway, he breathes a little easier, already feeling his panic subside. He parks his car at the curb and exits quickly, cutting through the front yard to get to the front door a little faster. He presses the button for the doorbell, listening to it ring through the house before Mrs. Mitchell appears in the doorway.

“James, how are you, sweetie?” she asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey, Mrs. M, I’m alright. How ‘bout yourself?”

“Good, good,” she replies. “Is there anything I can help you with, dear?”

“I uh – I was just wondering if Logan was home?” James asks, heart hammering in his chest at the way Mrs. Mitchell’s face falls.

“I’m sorry, James, Logan isn’t here. I’ll be sure to let him know you stopped by when he returns,” Mrs. Mitchell says, already inching the door shut.

James wants to ask where he is, who he’s with, if he’s doing okay, but from the looks of it, the entire situation is weighing heavily on everyone in the Mitchell household, so he says his thanks and makes his way back to his car, feeling utterly defeated.

\--

James doesn’t see Logan again until the following week and it’s a relief so sweet it almost brings him to his knees. At least until he actually sees Logan, the way he looks so completely lost and withdrawn, the dark smudges under his eyes, the slump of his shoulders like the weight of everything he’s carrying is just too much to bear.

He aches with the need to talk to him, tell him that everything will be alright, that what these assholes think and say isn’t going to matter when they get out of this hellhole of a high school, but before he can even put one foot in front of the other, Camille is there, whisking Logan off to wherever it is they’re going.

It happens every time he sees Logan throughout the day, and in the days that follow, too. Logan’s appearance doesn’t seem to be improving; if anything, it’s getting worse. He looks thin – thinner, clothes that were already loose nearly drowning him, cheeks hollow, eyes sunken, and the couple times James manages to catch him smiling, his dimples just aren’t there.

Nothing about any of this is right and James wishes so fiercely that he could fix it all, even though he knows he can’t.

With a heavy sigh, James makes his way to his next class, cursing the world and all its homophobic occupants.

\--

It’s been over a week since Logan’s set foot in this place, and his throat goes dry the moment he pulls into the parking lot. It gets worse the closer he gets, stomach twisting and turning, heart damn near pounding out of his chest, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t faint when Camille sneaks up on him, a gentle hand on the center of his back.

“You don’t have to do this,” she says from beside him, full of support and never-ending care.

“Yeah, I do, Cam,” Logan replies. He knows he has to; he’s already missed so much school and he’s probably so behind he doesn’t even want to think about it. He can’t just up and quit no matter how much he wants to sometimes, and if he doesn’t do this today, it’ll be the same thing happening tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and what’ll happen when he runs out of time?

“I just – I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore,” Camille says, voice so soft, and Logan can hear the tears Camille’s fighting so hard to keep at bay.

“Hey,” Logan says, pulling Camille into his arms, “I’ll be alright. It’s only a couple more weeks, then we’re out of this place.”

Camille sighs, her head resting against Logan’s shoulder. “I know. It’s just – this place really fucking sucks.”

“You’re telling me,” Logan says with a snort. He lets go of Camille, keeping his arm wrapped around her shoulders as they make their way up the path to one of the side entrances, forever grateful for Camille’s presence.

Pulling in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Logan pulls open the door and steps inside, ignoring the way everything in his body is telling him to turn around, get away, leave.

_‘I’ll be fine,’_ Logan tells himself, repeats it over and over as he navigates the halls with Camille at his side. _‘Two more weeks, I can do this.’_

It does nothing for his nerves; it doesn’t stop the way his skin prickles with awareness at all the eyes on him, the failed attempts at whispered words he hears from around him, the disgusted looks he knows he’s getting, and it’s only a slight relief when his locker appears in the distance, speeding up his pace in his haste to get to it, pulling Camille along with him.

He switches out his books as fast as he can, slamming his locker door shut with more force than he intended, startling at the loud sound it makes. He avoids looking at everyone they pass as they make their way to Camille’s locker, already feeling an exhaustion so deep he wants nothing more than to collapse where he’s standing.

Camille’s just as quick switching out the books she needs, hooking her arm around Logan’s after she has everything tucked away inside her messenger bag.

Logan’s anxiety increases tenfold, stomach roiling with every step he takes. He’s okay walking through the halls with Camille at his side, but he has no idea what to expect without her next to him after a week of being gone. That first day back at school following the incident he wishes he could scrub from his mind was bad enough that he barely lasted the full day and couldn’t bear the thought of setting foot inside the school for the remainder of the week. What’s it going to be like now that the gossip has had a chance to spread all around?

“I’ll meet you here when this class is over, okay?” Camille says when they arrive outside his Lit class.

Logan doesn’t even try refusing her offer, knowing that if he says no, she’ll show up anyway, and besides, as cowardly as it may make him seem, he doesn’t want to be stuck in the halls without Camille.

“That’s fine,” Logan says. “I have to talk to the teacher to see what I’m behind on anyways.” He lets himself get smothered in another of Camille’s embraces, squeezing tight before he lets her go. “Better get moving or you’re gonna be late.”

Camille huffs out a laugh. “Please. My teachers love me; they’d never mark me late.”

Logan smiles tentatively, the feeling foreign on his face. It feels like it’s been years since he last smiled.

Camille reaches out, poking the tip of her finger into one of Logan’s dimples before cackling and running off, the sound loosening the knot of anxiety clawing at his insides.

It all returns the moment he steps over the threshold into the classroom, what feels like every eye on him as he makes his way to his desk, hating that his seat is front and center.

The whispers start immediately and Logan catches his name every few seconds, shame and embarrassment making his face flush, tears burning behind his eyes. He twirls his pen between his fingers, keeping his gaze locked on the top of his desk until the teacher walks in through the door, switching everyone’s attention to the book they’re reading.

This day cannot be over soon enough.

\--

Logan’s waiting for Camille outside his chemistry room when Ozzy approaches, and his stomach immediately plummets to his feet.

Ozzy and his group of goons are the stereotypical pack of bullies. Everyone knows to steer clear of Ozzy, but it’s not like Logan went and hunted him down. No, Ozzy sought him out for a reason, something that terrifies Logan straight through to his marrow.

Ozzy towers over him, the green military-style jacket adding to his build, already broad and menacing on its own. His face is pinched into a scowl – or maybe twisted in disgust, Logan’s not entirely sure – and it has him cowering away, pressing his body flush against the wall.

“Let’s take a walk,” Ozzy says, brooking no room for argument, not that Logan was even thinking about arguing or protesting. 

Ozzy doesn’t waste a second, gripping Logan’s shoulder tight and pulling him away from the wall, steering him through the quickly emptying halls and down another Logan’s never used before. His movements are anything but gentle, grip tightening the longer they walk until they’ve reached the end of the corridor, then Ozzy’s grip loosens and he’s shoving Logan into a corner.

Logan’s heart is beating triple-time in his chest, fear coursing through his veins like ice, freezing every muscle in his body. He can’t hear anything over the sound of his own breathing or the blood rushing through his ears, can’t make out the words Ozzy’s saying to him, can’t even brace himself for impact when the first punch lands, stealing all his breath and making him double over.

All that registers is pain, so much fucking pain, bile rising in his throat that he forces himself to swallow down, unwilling to give these assholes the satisfaction they’re looking for. He breathes in and out harshly through his nose, arm wrapped around his midsection as he struggles to stand upright.

His arms are pulled back and held before he gets the chance to stand straight, and he squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can when he sees Ozzy pulling his arm back, the hit landing only seconds later.

Logan bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, copper and metallic filling his mouth as he’s hit again, and he bites down a little harder to stop himself from screaming out.

Whoever was holding his arms back lets go, and Logan doubles over immediately, sinking to his knees on the floor. His entire midsection feels like it’s on fire, every small move he makes sending white hot sparks of pain shooting through him.

Ozzy drops down to a squat beside him, thick finger flicking the side of his head. “You deserve to have the fag beaten out of you,” he sneers, much to his goons’ amusement.

Logan swallows hard, no longer able to hold back the tears.

“Crying like a little fucking fairy,” Ozzy spits as he stands, and just when Logan thinks Ozzy’s done and is going to walk away, Ozzy pushes him over with a booted foot, laughing as he turns and flees, his goons following behind him.

It takes every ounce of strength Logan can muster to push himself up off the floor, arm wrapped tightly around his stomach. He uses his free hand to wipe the tears from his face, bending down to collect his books from where they’d fallen when Ozzy pushed him, body screaming in protest.

He doesn’t even bother going to class, ducking into the nearest bathroom he can find. He avoids looking at his face when he steps in front of the mirror, setting his books on the small counter above the sink so he can untuck his shirt and ease it up, taking in the quickly bruising skin of his stomach.

Logan’s certain his entire midsection is going to be one big bruise by the time he gets home from school. Ozzy didn’t hold anything back, his hits landing with full force, and Logan could take them just fine despite how much they hurt. It’s what Ozzy said after that really got to him.

Fag. Abomination. Sinner. Pansy. Fairy. On and on it goes, the whispers, the looks of disgust, revulsion. Logan hates that it’s this way, that he’s being treated so horribly because of something he can’t help, can’t change, and it fills him with so much shame. He wishes so fiercely that he could be normal, that he could be straight, that everyone would just stop fucking talking about him already. It’s not like he chose to be gay; being picked on and mocked because of his grades and smarts was enough. This was something he never wanted to get out, not now, anyway, but because of a fuck up of a night, he’s become an even bigger target, ensuring his last moments of high school will be nothing but utter hell.

The bell rings, signaling the end of class, and Logan hurries to splash his face with water, hoping his eyes aren’t bloodshot. He pastes on a smile and acts like nothing is wrong as he exits the bathroom, quickly making his way to his locker, jaw clenched tight as pain ricochets from his stomach outward.

Camille’s standing there when he approaches, looking around nervously. She relaxes slightly when Logan gets closer, but one look is all it takes for concern to fill her eyes. 

“What happened?” she asks softly, immediately reaching out to offer a comforting touch.

“Later, Camille, please,” Logan replies, spinning the dial of his combination lock until he hears the ‘snick’ signaling it’s unlocked. He pulls it open, hissing out a breath when he tries to bend down, and Camille’s there immediately, gently pulling until he’s standing straight.

“Logan,” Camille says, trying again.

“I said later, Camille,” Logan bites out, immediately feeling like a dick for it. He resists hitting his head against his locker, deciding he resolutely does not need any more pain at the moment, and turns to face Camille, her lips turned down into a frown. “God, Cam, I’m sorry. I’m just – I’m not having a very good day.”

Camille quirks her lips up into a half-smile, taking the books from Logan’s hand and switching them out for the ones she knows he’ll need. “You’re lucky I’m so understanding, otherwise I’d punch you in the face,” she jokes, her tone playful.

It falls flat, Logan swallowing uncomfortably at the twinge of pain radiating from his stomach, a reminder of just how much he doesn’t want to be punched again. He tries coming up with a witty retort so Camille won’t catch on, but he isn’t quick enough and Camille latches on quicker than lightning, expression stony as she asks, “Who hit you?”

“What? No one,” Logan replies, trying to make his voice sound as incredulous as possible, but judging from the way Camille’s looking at him, she’s not buying it one bit. “Ozzy,” he finally says, turning his eyes to the floor.

“Of course,” Camille says, fuming. “Someone needs to punch _him_. See how he likes it.”

Logan shakes his head. “I’d just rather forget it happened, Camille. What’s done is done.”

Camille would clearly like nothing more than to be the one to punch Ozzy, but at the sight of Logan’s resigned expression, she sighs and lets the rage bleed out, says, “I guess,” even though Logan knows she doesn’t quite agree with his sentiments.

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late if we keep dawdling,” Logan says, steering the topic to something less dark and serious.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Logan? My teachers love me – ”

“You’ll never be marked late,” Logan finishes. “Yeah, I know. But I don’t have my teachers wrapped quite the way you do, so if we don’t get moving, _I_ will be marked late.”

“Fine, fine,” Camille says, handing Logan his books and closing his locker. “Lead the way.”

\--

Logan does his best avoiding Ozzy – and pretty much everyone that isn’t Camille – after that. The bullying doesn’t stop, but it lessens, though he still has bruises on hips and shoulders from the near-constant pushing that happens when he’s walking the halls, even with Camille by his side.

Even with the twinges of pain shooting from his shoulder through his arm, it’s amusing to watch the scathing look Camille gives out, the narrowing of her eyes and the low growl from her throat that has whoever it’s aimed at scampering off, laughing in disbelief or honest to goodness fear, Logan’s not entirely sure.

He makes the mistake of turning his head, the small smile slipping off his face. James is watching him from across the hall, something like concern written all over his face. It’s like everything stops for a moment, Logan’s entire world narrowed down to James, his heart trip-hammering in his chest. He’s having a hard time remembering why he ever thought shutting James out of his life was a good idea, the need to be at his side like nothing he’s ever felt before.

Camille tugs at his arm, jerking him back to reality, and he hisses out a breath, rolling his shoulder back even though it does nothing but make it hurt a little more. “Careful, woman,” he says, falling into step beside her.

“Shit, Logan, I’m sorry,” Camille apologizes, voice laced with emotion.

“S’alright,” Logan replies. “Just try to be a little more careful.”

“I just wish you’d tell someone,” Camille says for what feels like the thousandth time.

“What’s the point?” Logan asks. “We have a week left. It’s not worth it.”

“Exactly! We have a week left and those dicks are hellbent on making sure you don’t enjoy a single moment of it,” Camille says indignantly, unafraid to voice her displeasure, even in the crowded hallways of the school.

Logan looks down at the floor when he notices the attention Camille is drawing to them, face flushing under everyone’s gaze. There’s no possible way he will ever get used to all eyes being on him. He picks up his pace, breathing a little easier when he finally pushes open the door that leads to the lot he’s parked in.

“It’s just one more week, Camille,” he finally says. “I just want to get through it without drawing even more attention to myself which is the exact opposite of what would happen if I were to tell someone.”

Camille lets out a long sigh, clearly giving up. “I hope the week goes by quickly,” she says, Logan making a small sound of agreement at her statement. He really can’t wait to leave this place behind, and the sooner it happens, the better it’ll be for everyone.

\--

The week doesn’t exactly fly by, but it doesn’t drag either. Every moment outside of school is filled with cramming for final exams and finishing up the last few papers required for his classes.

It’s a bittersweet moment, placing his last exam on his teacher’s desk, but the second he steps outside, he already feels freer.

All that’s left is the graduation ceremony, something he contemplated not even attending. It took a lot of convincing on Camille’s part and it didn’t help knowing that if he were to skip out, it would disappoint his parents.

It’s hard for him to fall asleep that night, tossing and turning over and over before he finally gives up and lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling for hours before he finally crashes.

His stomach is a mess of nerves the moment he wakes up, and he finds himself unable to eat anything. He sits on the sofa in the living room, staring blankly at the tv until his mom tells him it’s time to get ready. His stomach turns unpleasantly the entire time he’s showering and dressing, fingers tripping over themselves when he tries to knot his tie.

“Here, let me help you,” his mom says, swatting his hands out of the way as she steps in close.

“Thanks, Momma,” Logan says, clearing his throat when he hears how hoarse his voice is.

“No problem, baby,” she replies, tugging the knot up and smoothing the ends down. “I’m proud of you,” she adds, voice thick with emotion.

Logan swallows tight around the lump in his throat, blinking rapidly to fight off the tears he knows are coming. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, not quite yet, and he nods in acknowledgement at her proclamation.

“With everything that’s been going on, I just want you to know that,” she says, words dropping off in a whisper, and Logan can’t help the small sob that escapes.

He pulls his mom in close, hugging her tight, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck, allowing the tears to slide free. He knows how hard this entire situation has been on his parents, dealing with his coming out in the face of the torment he was receiving at school. He never told them exactly how bad it was, never clued them in on why he wanted his number changed, told them it was just a preventative measure because he couldn’t let them know about the threatening calls he was getting. It wouldn’t have done any good, anyway. Ozzy and his goons still managed to corner him and attempt to ‘beat the fag out of him’, just like they promised.

Things are still a little awkward pertaining to his sexuality, but his parents are trying, he knows they are, and for his momma to tell him she’s proud of him, it really kind of means the world to him.

“C’mon, baby, no more crying,” his momma says, rubbing soothing circles against his back. “We’ve got a graduation to get to.”

Logan pulls back and gives his mom a watery smile, brushing away the tears that are on her cheeks with his thumbs before he presses a kiss there.

“Let me go wash my face, then we can go,” Logan says, pointing in the direction of the bathroom.

“I’ll be waiting downstairs. Don’t forget to grab your cap and gown from your closet,” she reminds him before she leaves the room, her heels clicking against the smooth wood of the floor as she descends the staircase.

Logan joins her moments later, face fresh, gown and cap slung over his arm.

“Your dad’s there waiting for us,” his mom says, and Logan takes that as his cue to get into the car as quick as he can, knowing how impatient his dad can be.

\--

It’s warm outside, the sun bright and full in the sky, not a cloud in sight to cover it. Logan’s tuning in and out of the speeches being given, a little bummed he’s not up there giving the valedictorian speech like he once hoped he would. It’s better this way with no one’s eyes on him, just another graduate in the sea of hundreds that make up his classmates.

Before he knows it, they’ve already gone through the first three letters of the alphabet. The only reason he knows that is because he can see James standing in line, tall and proud as he inches forward, closer and closer to getting his diploma.

_‘James Diamond,’_ he hears, and it’s like all the breath he had in his lungs is punched out of him. This is it. This is the last moment he will probably ever see James again. He knows it’s a part of high school, growing up, life, but he’d always thought he and James had that forever kind of friendship, his more-than-friendship feelings aside. It’s an all-consuming ache in his chest knowing that that’s not how things are anymore, if they ever were, and he traces every move James makes: each step he takes, the way his shoulders move, the drape of the gown over his body, the dazzling white smile and the shape of his lips, filling himself with everything he can because this is James and James is – was – everything to him.

He doesn’t even care about receiving his own diploma anymore, just wants out of here as fast as possible because it’s too much, too fucking much and his heart fucking hurts.

He watches James walk back to his seat, holding his diploma tightly. He says a silent goodbye, then fixes his attention forward, waiting for his name to be called.


	3. Chapter 3

\--  
2 years later  
\--

“Logan, seriously, you need to move this box of books or I’m going to throw it out the window,” Camille calls out, the little growl in her voice letting Logan know how absolutely serious she is.

“Can’t you just push it off to the side?” he asks, wiping the sweat from his palms on the thighs of his jeans.

“It’s not _my_ box. Why should I have to move it?”

Logan grumbles under his breath, exiting his bedroom and walking the length of the short hallway out to the living room.

“Because it would’ve been the nice thing to do?” Logan says, bending down to heft the box up, nearly toppling over under its weight.

“Ha! See! You can barely even lift it and you expected me to move it!” Camille says, trying to keep a straight face even though Logan can see that she wants to laugh.

“I’m tired, Camille. I’ve been moving stuff around all day,” Logan replies, moving sluggishly out of the living room and back to his bedroom to drop the box of books on his unmade bed.

Logan hadn’t quite realized how exhausting moving would be, nor did he realize just how much stuff he really had. It doesn’t help that he’s been moving all of Camille’s things, too.

Still, it beats another year in the dorms, and he’s entirely grateful that his parents agreed to pay the rent – utilities included, thank god – as long as he and Camille keep working part-time to pay for cable, internet, and food.

Logan was a little leery at first about trying to work and juggle school at the same time, but working his entire sophomore year at a café near campus turned out not to be so bad. His boss is flexible with his hours, lets him work his shifts around his classes and never lets him take more than 12 hours a week. Logan found it offensive his first week there – the week before classes started up –, felt like his boss was insinuating that he couldn’t handle both school and work, but when the first week of classes was over, he realized his boss was just looking out for him.

It took some getting used to, but he loves his job now, balancing it perfectly between his classes and homework. The coffee is an awesome perk, too.

His parents were disheartened to find out Logan wasn’t going home for the summer this year, but when he reasoned with them and explained how he wanted to save up some more money before school started, they stopped trying to get him to come back, and Logan promised he’d be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

It’s crazy, when he thinks about it, how much his life has changed in just a couple shorts years. Things were really kind of terrible when high school ended, and the only thing Logan knew he wanted was to get out as fast as possible.

It didn’t exactly go that way.

He spent most his time at home, but it wasn’t like he really wanted to go out, anyway. The tense and stifling atmosphere made him wish he had somewhere to go, though. It had gotten to a point where Logan wasn’t sure what his mom was crying over anymore: him going to college, or his being gay.

It wasn’t until she sat him down halfway through the summer break to tell him.

“So,” she started, already dabbing at her eyes. “You’ll be leaving soon.”

Logan folded his hands together, placing them on the tabletop. “Yeah,” he said, because what else was he supposed to say? He was aware that he was leaving soon. It’s what he wanted, the one thing he’d been looking forward to more than almost anything.

“Los Angeles is a much different place than here, baby,” she said, reaching out to lay a hand on top of Logan’s.

“Yeeeah,” Logan replied, not sure where she was going with this.

“What I’m trying to say is that Los Angeles is such a big, diverse city. It’s a place where you won’t have to be so afraid of being who you really are. There’s no reason for you to feel ashamed about your sexuality, and your father and I are sorry if we made you feel that way. It was just – it was hard for us to see you going through something so rough. No parent wants that for their child.

“Anyways. Don’t be afraid to show who you really are. We want you to be happy. And who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a cute boy to bring home.”

Logan flushed a deep shade of red, an embarrassed laugh pushing its way out past the lump in his throat.

“Thanks, mom,” he said softly, eyes wet with tears when he looked up at her to see her giving him a watery smile.

His mom was right. People barely bat an eyelash when they find out he’s gay. It’s still not something he’s entirely comfortable with being upfront about, but he doesn’t quite hide it the way he’d thought he’d have to, and it’s not like he can keep it completely secret with Camille as his best friend. Her never-ending support means the world to him, though, and there’s nothing he’d trade it for.

\--

Logan’s been able to breathe a little easier since he arrived in L.A. He’s a lot happier than he was back in Minnesota, and he’s been able to open himself up a little, namely in the way of dating.

The handful of dates he’s been on haven’t led to anything serious, but it’s been a decent experience, getting to know new people. His mom jokes around every time they talk, asking him when he’s going to bring someone home, and Logan flushes like always, stammering something out about how he’s too busy with school and work to even think about having a serious relationship, but the truth of the matter is no matter how much he’s opened himself up since arriving in L.A., he just doesn’t feel like he can trust any of the guys he dates.

The only person he really does trust is Camille, and it’s because she’s been there by his side through everything.

It’s unfair, he knows, judging the guys he meets by what happened between him and James, but it’s just – it’s there, always there, no matter how much he tries to forget about it. He loved James, loved him more than he knew he was capable of, and seeing him with Jennifer nearly broke him in two. When James chose Jennifer over him, the hurt was something he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get over. He’d long ago accepted that he’d never have James the way he wanted him, and he was more than okay with having James in his life as just his best friend. When he didn’t have even that anymore, well, Dak happened.

He didn’t blame James for any of that, and he still doesn’t. James didn’t know how he felt, didn’t know how much it killed him to see James and Jennifer together, but, yeah, that’s about as far as his rationalization goes on that. He’ll never be able to rationalize the way James just tossed him away like he meant nothing. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to get over the hurt that caused.

He’d hoped, stupid as it was, that James would come around after what happened with Dak. The one time he needed his best friend more than ever, he wasn’t there, and Logan’s trust just disappeared. He’d trusted James with every fiber of his being, expected James to always be there for him when he needed him, and at the lowest point of his life, he wasn’t. It was at that moment that Logan stopped putting his trust in people, and even with Camille there by his side, never giving up, never going away, he learned never to trust someone like that again; they’d only hurt him in the end.

It makes him all the more grateful for Camille’s presence, her never-ending faith and support in him, and though he’s not quite sure he’ll ever be able to fully trust another person, Camille’s helping him see the good in others.

“Logan!” Camille calls out from the living room, jerking Logan out of his head and nearly making him drop the books he’s in the middle of putting away.

Logan finishes shelving the last of the books left in the box before he peeks his head out the door, calling back, “What?”

“I’m ordering pizza. Did you want pepperoni, sausage, or something else?” she asks, sliding into sight.

“Pepperoni’s fine,” Logan replies. “Have you done any work in your bedroom?”

Camille holds up a finger, phone pressed to her ear, rattling off their order and their address before she hangs up.

“No, _dad_ , I was putting away the kitchen stuff that was in those boxes your parents left when they visited last week,” Camille says, huffing out a breath.

Logan had forgotten his parents left a box of kitchen supplies. They visited the week before finals, finalizing the details of the apartment lease, and before they left, they stopped to pick up some cookware and dinnerware, along with potholders, oven mitts, and hand towels.

“You could’ve saved that for later,” Logan says.

“But I was hungry and I wanted to get it done and out of the way so we could eat,” Camille replies, sticking out her tongue.

Logan sticks his tongue out right back at her. “You ordered pizza, Cam. We don’t exactly need plates for that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, flippantly waving her hand around. “It’s one less thing we’ve got to worry about, so unbunch your boxers. I’ll set up my room after we eat.”

The pizza arrives ten minutes later, and Logan’s stomach growls the second the scent hits his nose. He polishes off half a pizza himself, surprised at his own appetite, but puts it down to all the moving he’s done.

He puts the remainders of the pizza in the fridge, prepared to flop down on the sofa and not move for the rest of the night.

“Can you help me with my room?” Camille asks, fluttering her eyelashes.

Somehow Logan knew that was coming.

Logan sighs. “I guess,” he says, dragging himself off to Camille’s room.

\--

By the time Camille’s room is finished, Logan wants nothing more than to sleep for the rest of the week, despite Camille’s grumblings about him being a lazyass. He’s exhausted and sweaty, and he has to force himself to get up to shower.

He barely remembers to set his alarm for work when he crawls into bed, eyes slipping shut the second his head hits the pillow.

\--

In the haze of moving from the dorms to the apartment after finals, Logan almost forgot about the date he had planned.

In the middle of his shift at Lily’s Café, his phone buzzes in his pocket, alerting him to a new text. It confuses him for a moment because there aren’t many people he actually texts, Camille being the main one, and he’s pretty sure she’s supposed to be at work, too.

He sneaks his phone out of his pocket during a lull in business, tapping in his password to unlock it.

_We still on for that date tonight?_

Logan’s stomach starts flipping nervously the moment he reads the words, and then he feels like an ass for forgetting all about it.

_Yeah, of course_ he sends back, fingers shaking as he types out the message. God, going out on dates will never not make him nervous.

It’s just his luck that the rest of his shift would fly by now. He tries to keep the panic to a minimum on his way home, and especially when he walks through the door. He doesn’t think he can deal with Camille grilling him right now.

“How was work?” Camille asks, scaring Logan half to death.

“How many times have I told you not to do that?” he asks, holding his hand to his chest.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop being such a big girl?” she fires back, eyebrow quirked.

Logan doesn’t answer, toeing his shoes off and hanging his apron on the hook.

“So, hey, you’ve got that date tonight, right?” Camille asks, causing Logan to freeze where he stands.

“Uh – what?” he says when he’s finally able to get his mouth to move.

“You know, that date with that guy. You told me about it before we started moving. Don’t you remember?”

No, Logan does not remember.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says, untucking his shirt from his pants.

“It _is_ tonight, right?” Camille asks again.

“Yeah,” Logan says. “He texted me while I was at work, otherwise I wouldn’t have remembered.”

“Nah, I would’ve reminded you,” Camille says. “Any idea what you’re gonna wear?”

“I dunno,” Logan replies. “I just wanna shower to get rid of this coffee smell.”

Honestly, Logan couldn’t care less what he wears on his date. He hates that there’s all this pressure to look and be picture perfect on the first date. He knows first impressions mean a lot, but dammit, he doesn’t want to dress and act in a way that’s not true to who he is. There’s no point in it. If he’s going to be with someone long-term, they’re going to find who he really is anyway, so there’s no sense in pretending to be someone he’s not.

“I’ll help you pick something out,” Camille says, but Logan’s already turning away, so he lifts his arm and waves off her offer, even though he knows she’s going to help anyway.

Dammit.

\--

Much to Logan’s surprise, Camille doesn’t put up such a fuss about the clothes he settles on. The dark blue jeans he’s wearing aren’t as tight as the ones Camille usually urges him to wear, the fit comfortable and relaxed instead of threatening to cut off his circulation every time he breathes. He’s wearing a plain white button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows because it makes him look “less like a stuffy prep” – Camille’s words, not his.

He lets her style his hair, working her magic, because – even though he’ll never admit it to her – she’s much better at getting every piece to go where it’s supposed to.

“You’re gonna need a haircut soon,” she tells him, stepping back to admire her work.

Logan shrugs his shoulders in response. His hair is getting a little long, but he’ll worry about it later.

“Alright, off you go,” Camille says when she realizes she isn’t going to get a verbal response, shoving Logan gently out of the bathroom.

“Yeah, I guess,” Logan says, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“You’ll be fine, Logan,” Camille insists, following him out of the bathroom.

Logan isn’t so sure, not with the way nerves are attacking his stomach, making it flip and churn.

“Yeah,” Logan replies. “I’ll uh – I’ll be home later, I guess.”

He checks his pockets, ensuring he has his wallet and cell phone before snagging his keys off the hook next to the door.

“Have fun tonight!” Camille exclaims, her voice following Logan out the door and down the hall.

Have fun. Yeah. Like that’s possible with his stomach doing somersaults on him.

\--

When Logan arrives at the diner, Kendall’s already there, a booth in the corner secured for them. He walks over with a nervous smile on his face when he sees Kendall wave him over, heart racing in his chest. God, does he hate first dates.

It’s not like he doesn’t know Kendall. They’ve talked the handful of times Kendall’s gone into the café Logan works at, and even though Logan doesn’t really feel much of a connection between them, he didn’t decline when Kendall asked him out.

There’s just something about Kendall that makes Logan feel like he could really trust him, and that’s a large part of why he agreed to the date.

“Hey,” Kendall says, standing up and pulling Logan into a hug.

Logan stiffens immediately; he can’t remember the last time he was hugged by someone other than Camille or his parents, and Kendall pulling him in like they’re old friends is a little jarring. He manages to relax after a moment, hugging back briefly before letting go, taking the seat opposite Kendall’s.

“You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” Logan asks, dreading the thought that he kept Kendall waiting.

“Nah,” Kendall replies. “Only got here a few minutes before you did.”

“Oh, okay. That’s uh – that’s good,” Logan says, relief flooding through him.

Their waitress comes over then, handing them their menus, momentarily interrupting their attempt at conversation. Logan orders a cheeseburger with a side of fries and a Coke, and it’s not entirely surprising when Kendall orders the same. The waitress turns with a “that’ll be right up”, whisking away their menus.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom quick before the food gets here,” Kendall says, excusing himself from the table.

Logan nods, blowing out a heavy breath when Kendall walks away from the table. He starts playing with the aluminum napkin dispenser, pulling out one after the other when a distinctive sound makes every muscle in Logan’s body freeze up, breath caught in his throat.

Even over the chatter of the others in the diner, Logan knows that sound, that voice, that fucking laugh. He knows it like he knows the back of his hand, every rise and fall in pitch, the smooth richness of it, and it has his heart in his throat, ready to beat its way out.

He doesn’t want to turn around, doesn’t want the visual confirmation, but something in him has him turning around the bench seat of the booth, eyes wide like saucers.

God, but it can’t be.

He blinks his eyes repeatedly like maybe his vision is playing some fucked up trick on him, but no matter how many times he does it, he still sees the same thing: James.

He whips back around in his seat, praying with all his might that he wasn’t seen.

Kendall slides back into his side of the booth a second later, and his sudden appearance nearly makes Logan jump out of his skin.

“You okay?” Kendall asks, voice laced with concern.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Logan says, forcing a smile that instantly makes his cheeks ache.

Kendall starts talking about where he grew up, his hobbies, and Logan tries paying attention and responding, he does, but he just – he can’t get over the shock of seeing James again. He’d thought he’d seen the last of James at graduation, had thought he’d never again have to deal with the flood of emotions seeing James causes, but it’s all right there, simmering under his skin.

He barely manages to eat a bite when the waitress finally brings their food, stomach tied in knots. He takes a deep breath, finally settling his eyes on Kendall.

“Um,” Logan starts, clearing his throat. “I uh – I’m really sorry about this, but –”

“It’s just not working for you?” Kendall finishes, wiping his hands off on a napkin. He doesn’t seem upset about it, if the slight upturn of his lips is anything to go by.

“Not really, no,” Logan admits, dragging his eyes back down to his plate. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, dude, don’t worry about it,” Kendall says. “I’m uh – I wasn’t really feeling any chemistry either, so, y’know, no hard feelings.”

It should help Logan breathe a little easier, but it doesn’t. It still feels like there’s a band around his throat, stealing all his air.

“You sure you’re okay? It’s really not a big deal, Logan,” Kendall says softly, placing a comforting hand on top of Logan’s where it’s resting on the tabletop.

“I just – I saw someone I haven’t seen in a while, and it’s kind of messing me up a little,” Logan admits, the words out before he even realizes he’s going to say them.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Kendall asks, and Logan takes a second to think it over. The only person he’s ever talked to about the whole James situation is Camille, and that’s because she’s been by his side through it all. Even when he didn’t want to talk about it, she pressed and pressed until he finally caved, reliving the hurt that had barely had time to settle. He’s always been grateful to have Camille to talk to, knowing that if he’d kept it all bottled up inside, it would’ve slowly driven him insane, but there’s something about being able to talk about it on his own free will that has him slowly nodding his head.

He takes pulls in a lungful of air and tells Kendall everything: about realizing his feelings for James; how he never really expected anything to happen between them, but how much it still hurt when James and Jennifer got together; how much it sucked having to be the third wheel on their dates, watching them be all mushy and coupley when he so badly wanted to be in Jennifer’s position; how things suddenly shifted and James started ignoring him, ditching him to be with Jennifer all the time, how much it hurt to be thrown aside like that by the person he thought was his best friend; how Camille kept him busy so he wouldn’t think about how James had been treating him; the cast party for Camille’s play and everything that happened with Dak, including the bullying and name-calling that followed and how when he needed him the most, James wasn’t there; how no matter how much he tries, he just can’t work past the hurt James caused him, the betrayal of his faith and trust that James’ actions caused.

“And I never thought I’d see him again, y’know? I’d accepted it when we graduated high school that we just weren’t meant to be friends, and I’ve been trying like hell for the last two years to move on with my life. I’d like to think I’ve done a pretty decent job of it, but seeing him again, it’s like I’m back in high school all over, and all I can even think about now is the pain and hurt he caused, and god – it’s not supposed to be like this anymore,” Logan says, voice almost whisper soft as he finishes.

“Oh, wow,” Kendall says, eyes wide. Clearly he wasn’t expecting all that. “I think – and this is just my personal opinion – that it still feels that way to you because you never got any closure with him. From the sounds of it, there’s so much that’s unresolved between the two of you that what you’re feeling isn’t going to just go away with time. And maybe – maybe you’re still in love with him.”

“No, no I’m not,” Logan says immediately, because he isn’t, not anymore. He refuses to even entertain the notion of him still being in love with James, because despite the rationality of everything else Kendall said, him still being in love with James is completely preposterous.

Isn’t it?

Suddenly Logan’s not too sure.

“Okay,” Kendall replies. “So maybe you’re not, but I think the rest of what I said holds up.” 

“Yeah, it does,” Logan admits. “I just – I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s not a guarantee that you’ll even see him again,” Kendall points out, “but if you do, what happens is up to you.”

“Very true,” Logan says, feeling the first hints of a genuine smile at the corners of his lips. His stomach still feels like it’s in knots over seeing James again, something he’d never thought would happen, and while he can’t exactly piece together how he feels about the sudden realization that he’s not as over James as he thought he was, Kendall’s words about needing closure resonate through him, bringing him to the conclusion that if he truly hopes to move on with his life, seeing and talking to James is something he’s going to have to do.

He only hopes he’ll be able to get through it with his heart intact.

\--

Logan had just stopped in at work to pick up his schedule for the next week, and he’s exiting the small employee lounge where their schedules are kept when he sees him again. Only this time he’s not alone. There’s a guy hanging off him, an arm wrapped possessively around James’ midsection and it’s enough to have bile rising in the back of Logan’s throat.

Surely he can’t be seeing what he thinks he’s seeing.

He doesn’t want to stick around to see if he’s right, so he quickly maneuvers his way around the counter, hoping with all his might that he isn’t spotted.

Of course, today just isn’t his lucky day.

\--

\--

“Logan, hey,” James says, feeling like he’s had the breath knocked out of him. He has this instinctive urge to pull Logan into a hug, so damn relieved to see Logan looking much better than he had the last time he saw him two years ago, but he doesn’t know if it’d be welcome, and it’s kind of hard to move with the arm already wrapped around his waist.

“Uh, hey, James,” Logan says, eyes darting back and forth between James and the person standing next to him.

“How are you?” James asks, willing to do anything it takes to prolong this conversation.

“I’m, y’know, I’m good,” Logan replies. “How about you?”

“Me, too,” James says, feeling like an idiot. “I mean, I’m good, too,” he clarifies. At the throat-clearing coming from beside him, James adds on, “This is Jett, my uh – boyfriend,” and he can’t help but notice the way Logan’s eyes go wide before they close off, Logan’s entire face shutting down.

“I gotta go,” Logan says immediately, turning on his heel and speeding out the door.

James tries to go after him, but the arm Jett has wrapped around his waist keeps him firmly in place.

“Whoever that guy is,” Jett says, “is clearly not as important as I am.”

James barely manages to hold back the grimace of disgust. Sometimes he really doesn’t know why he even bothers with Jett.

“Just stop it, Jett. He’s my best friend,” James says, the words rolling easily off his tongue.

“Mmm, well, clearly he isn’t if he ran off like that,” Jett says with a smirk, and wow, James has never wanted to hit him more than he does right now.

“Seriously, Jett, stop,” James growls. He’s really not in the mood for Jett’s bullshit, not right now. Or ever, really. “Can you get your damn coffee so we can go?”

Jett mumbles under his breath, but he moves closer to the counter, standing in line to order his drink.

This really isn’t how James saw his day going.

\--

No matter how hard he tries, James can’t stop seeing Logan’s face when he introduced Jett as his boyfriend. It was a flicker of emotion, there and gone in an instant, but it was enough for James to pick up on. There was so much hurt and confusion packed into that brief second, and it makes James’ head spin.

Out of all the things Logan had probably expected him to say, introducing Jett as his boyfriend was definitely not amongst them. Why would it be? James knows he’d never given any indication that he might’ve been interested in guys while they were in high school, and it’s not something he’d realized until not too long ago.

His first year of college had absolutely sucked. He knew absolutely no one, and even though he’d managed to make a few friends, it didn’t change his outlook. Though his mother didn’t seem to approve, and his dad didn’t seem to care, James decided after that year that college just wasn’t for him.

He didn’t want to go back to Minnesota, so he bounced around the east coast for a while, only to end up back in New York where he decided to try theater. He had loved doing the plays and musicals in high school, but because of Jennifer, he’d ended up not doing the final play.

He’d done a few small productions when he met Jett, and James couldn’t help but admire the way Jett carried himself, full of bravado and self-confidence to the point of extreme arrogance, but instead of it being a turn-off, James found himself attracted to it. It didn’t make sense to him, but he wanted to get to know Jett, and he found himself hanging off almost every word Jett said, something that was far from the norm for him.

He quickly discovered it was like Jennifer all over again, and when he realized that, everything kind of fell into place for him. He finally understood what Jennifer was hinting at when she told him that how he felt about things being easier with Logan around was something he should examine a little more closely.

James didn’t want to believe it at first, pushed it down and out of his mind, but every time he looked at Jett, every time Jett touched him, all he could think about was Logan, and it settled like a ton of bricks crushing him: he had unknowingly fallen for his best friend.

That knowledge didn’t make things any easier. Half the time James was torn between throwing up his insides and tearing apart the country to find Logan, to make things right between them, but he couldn’t, sick with himself over the way he treated Logan, the way he wasn’t there for Logan when he needed him the most, the way Jennifer’s words influenced how he acted. It makes him even sicker when he realizes Jennifer had known how he felt all along, had even thrown the truth at him, but he was too caught up in everything else that was happening to really consider it.

Sure, he had tossed it around in his head a few times, but with the other ludicrous shit Jennifer was hurling at him, it seemed impossible, unfathomable – hilarious, even. Only now, he knew better.

The knowledge burned a hole through his heart, and when Jett’s cocky arrogance turned into overbearing and controlling, James didn’t try to get away, telling himself it was what he deserved for how he treated Logan.

James had never officially labeled Jett his boyfriend, and Jett had never seemed bothered by it, though he didn’t call James his boyfriend, either. When he had made the decision of moving to Los Angeles after being in New York for a year, Jett invited himself along, telling James it was for his own good, that he needed someone to keep an eye on him at all times, and it made James’ stomach roil. He didn’t fight it, though, and when he drove cross country, Jett was right beside him in the passenger seat.

“God, tell me you’re not still thinking about that nerdy looking loser,” Jett says, kicking James’ foot as he walks by.

James grits his teeth, balling his hands into fists. He’s really fucking fed up with Jett. “Get out of my apartment,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, no, that’s not happening,” Jett replies, attention fixed firmly on the tv.

“Get the fuck out of my apartment, Jett,” James growls. He’s done with this, done with Jett’s attitude, the way he’s constantly trying to control every little thing James thinks, says, or does, and he wants him gone.

“Surely you’re joking,” Jett says. “You can’t make it without me.”

James scoffs. The fuck does this guy think he is?

“I did damn fine before you came along, and you’ve done nothing but make my life a million times worse than I needed it to be.”

“Oh, please,” Jett says. “I’ve brightened your life. Everybody wants me.”

“Then go find someone else and get the fuck out of my apartment!” James shouts, chest heaving, adrenaline rushing through him.

Jett scowls, but he doesn’t say another word until he gets to the doorway. “I’ll be back to pick up my stuff,” he says, then wrenches the door open and slams it shut after stomping out it.

“I’ll be sure to pack it all up for you!” James yells out, breathing out a frustrated sigh as he plops down heavily onto the sofa.

He has no doubt that this thing with Jett isn’t completely over, but all he feels right now is a sense of relief that Jett is gone. He didn’t intend for it to happen, probably would’ve kept putting himself through Jett’s tireless bullshit had it not been for seeing Logan, and he just feels, god, relieved; relieved and so fucking exhausted.

He never believed he’d see Logan again. Sure he’d thought about it, dreamt about it, what he would say, how he would act, and none of it was anywhere near how their meeting went. Every time he closes his eyes, all he sees is Logan’s face, the flicker of hurt in his eyes, the way his face fell before it closed off, and he hates himself for being the one to put it there.

How else was he supposed to introduce Jett? He could’ve introduced him as his friend, yeah, but Jett’s arm was wrapped around his waist and James couldn’t exactly tell Logan that Jett’s just this controlling douchebag who he sometimes sleeps with and who happened to follow James across the country. That probably would’ve gone over a lot worse.

But seeing Logan again, James knows this is his chance to make everything right, to fix their friendship, and maybe, maybe to have something more.

\--

A couple days later, James is wandering around aimlessly, trying to find something to fill his time with when he stumbles upon the same café he saw Logan in the other day. He peeks in through the window, surprised to find Logan standing behind the counter with a blue apron on and a matching blue hat. He takes a deep breath and pulls open the door, wincing at the sound the bells overhead make.

Logan’s eyes are on him in an instant and it sends a trill of nerves and pleasure through him to have Logan’s eyes on him at all.

James slowly approaches the counter, eyes darting between Logan and the board hanging above, deciding what – if anything – he wants to drink.

“Um, what can I get for you?” Logan asks, voice shaking ever so slightly.

“I haven’t decided yet,” James replies, smiling softly.

“If uh – if you wanted to wait, I get off in a few minutes and I dunno, I could make you something and we could sit?” Logan suggests, face flushing the softest shade of pink.

James is more than a little surprised at the suggestion, but he nods his head yes, quickly agreeing before Logan has a chance to change his mind.

“I’ll go grab a table,” James says, barely able to resist winking at Logan. He picks a table that’s off to the side, almost tucked away in the corner.

It’s barely a five minute wait before Logan’s joining him, sliding a cardboard cup toward him before taking a seat.

James leans down to sniff what’s in the cup, faint traces of caramel and chocolate hitting his nose.

“Smells good,” he says, prying off the lid, blowing against the surface to cool it down so he can take a sip without scalding his tongue. “Mm, oh wow, this is delicious. What is it?”

Logan’s got a pleased little smile twitching on his lips when James looks up at him, and it has his belly flip-flopping around in delight.

“It’s uh – just something I came up with. It’s not a drink we actually make and sell,” Logan replies, trying to keep his voice even.

“It’s really good, Logan,” James says, insides lighting up at being able to say Logan’s name out loud again.

That feeling is quickly wiped away in the face of the awkward silence that settles over them. James isn’t sure what to say or where to start, and he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and have Logan run out on him again.

After a few long minutes, Logan finally speaks up, asks, “So, what brings you to L.A.?”

“I really don’t know, honestly,” James says with a laugh. “I tried the college thing for a year and it didn’t really work for me, so I bummed around the east coast for a while, did some theater in New York for about a year, and, I dunno. I just decided I needed something different, I guess, and I packed up my stuff and drove here.”

“Weren’t your parents upset with you?” Logan asks, brows furrowed in question.

“My dad didn’t really care, y’know, no surprise there. My mom was a little more upset about it, but I think that’s mostly because she’s been pushing for me to get a business degree so I can take over the cosmetics company for her when she retires,” James explains, shrugging his shoulders.

“Still don’t wanna take over the company for her, huh?” Logan asks, voice bordering teasing.

“God, no, but knowing her, she’ll find some way to make me take it over anyway.”

Logan lets out a small laugh at that, shaking his head. “Yeah, that definitely sounds like your mom.”

“What about you? You here for school?” James asks, lifting the cup of coffee to his lips and taking a drink, rich taste of chocolate and caramel sliding down his throat.

“Yeah,” Logan says, looking down at the tabletop. “I start my junior year at CSULA in the fall.”

“CSULA?” James asks, because he’s pretty sure he doesn’t remember Logan ever mentioning that college when he was planning where he wanted to go to school.

“Uh, yeah. It’s California State University, Los Angeles. Not exactly UCLA or Stanford like I’d planned on, but. Camille didn’t get into either of those, so we decided CSU. It was the furthest away from Minnesota that we both got into, so,” Logan explains, shoulders tense like he’s said too much.

Logan doesn’t even need to elaborate for James to understand what he means. After everything that happened, it was only natural that Logan would want to leave, get as far away from the place that tormented him as he could, and of course Camille would be right there by his side. She’s always been there with her never-ending, never-failing support, and James wishes so fiercely he could say the same.

“How is Camille?” James asks, steering the conversation to a topic that hopefully won’t be too much of a sore spot for Logan.

“She’s y’know, she’s Camille. Pretty much same as ever,” Logan replies, nervously looking down at his watch.

“Yeah? That’s good,” James says. He’s glad Logan still has her.

“Speaking of Camille, I um – I’m supposed to be meeting her soon, so, I’ve gotta get going,” Logan says, pushing away from the table to stand up.

James starts panicking internally, afraid that this is going to be the last time he sees Logan, which, it probably won’t be considering James knows where he works, but it might be the last chance he gets to talk to Logan like this, and he can’t – this can’t be it.

“We should do this again,” James blurts out, before the thought’s even had a chance to fully form.

Logan looks a little shocked at the suggestion, like maybe he’d hoped he’d never have to do this again, and James is so certain he’s going to say no that he’s taken aback when Logan says, “Sure,” voice so soft James is surprised he heard it.

“Awesome, okay,” James says, and he doesn’t even care if he sounds overeager or too enthusiastic. “Um, how about we trade numbers and I’ll text you the details?”

James can see how reluctant Logan is about giving out his number, so he waits patiently with his phone in his hand, opened to the new contact input screen. Seconds later, Logan rattles off his number and James punches it in, repeating it back to Logan to make sure it’s correct before he saves it. He quickly opens a text, taps out _hi_ , selects Logan’s information and presses send.

“And now you have my number,” James says, sliding his phone into his pocket, smile on his face.

“I’ll see you later,” Logan says, and then he turns and walks away.

If things were going any other way, James would probably be a little upset about that, but today, he just can’t find it in himself to be bothered by it. He has Logan’s number and they’ve got tentative plans to meet up again. There’s very little that could ruin the mood he’s in.

For the first time in a long time, James feels like everything is going to be okay.

\--

\--

“Stupid. So fricken stupid. Why did you do that?”

Logan berates himself the entire time it takes him to get from the café to his apartment, frustration making his skin prickle.

It was a bad idea to even sit with James to begin with, and it’s an even worse idea to see him again. It’s why he lied about having to meet Camille; he just had to get out of there. He couldn’t bear to be around James for one more minute, all those feelings he thought were gone pushing themselves to the forefront of his mind, his heart, reminding him that yes, he’s still very much in love with James.

He doesn’t want to be. He doesn’t want to go through that hurt all over again, doesn’t think he could do it a second time and make it through okay. The first time was bad enough. And knowing that James has a boyfriend now, that James being attracted to men is an actual thing and for him to not have a chance? It would tear him apart.

He can’t do this, he can’t. He knows he can’t. There’s no way he can see James again. It’s already too much for him to handle. One damn conversation and all Logan can think about is James’ smile, his eyes, how much he’s grown up and changed physically the last two years, how he’s even more attractive now than he was when they were in high school, and these are not the things he needs to be thinking about.

James hurt him. James wasn’t there when he needed him. James ripped out his fucking heart and threw it into a goddamn blender and walked away like it was nothing, and Logan can’t let him do it again.

He’s tugging at his hair, pacing back and forth across the living room, trying to make sense of what the hell he’s doing.

It’s how Camille finds him when she gets home from work, the door closing with a resounding thud that makes Logan jump, tugging a little too hard at his hair and wincing.

“What happened?” Camille asks, removing Logan’s hands from his hair and guiding him to the sofa. “I haven’t seen you this worked up in years.”

“It’s nothing,” Logan lies. “Just had a weird day, is all.”

“Nice try, Mitchell,” Camille says with a snort. “If you’re gonna try to lie, at least try it on someone who hasn’t known for years.”

Logan huffs out a laugh. Camille’s got a point. No matter how many times he’s tried to lie to her, she’s always been able to see right through it before he’s even had a chance to open his mouth.

“I uh – I saw James,” Logan admits in a whisper.

“What? When? Where?” Camille asks, the loudness of her voice making Logan inch away.

“At the diner the other night when I went on that date,” Logan replies.

“And you’re sure it was him?” Camille questions, earning a raised eyebrow from Logan.

Of all the questions Camille could’ve asked, that’s by far the stupidest one. He’d know James anywhere, would be able to pick him out easily in a crowded room by the sound of his voice alone.

“Positive,” Logan says.

“But if you saw him the other night, why are you getting so worked up over it now?” Camille asks, voice laced heavily with confusion.

“He came into the café today and I was an idiot and sat down to talk to him,” Logan says.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Logan,” Camille says, reaching for Logan’s hand and lacing their fingers together, providing all the comfort she can. “It’s been two years; maybe it’s time you talk to him about everything that happened so you can move past this.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what Kendall said,” Logan comments.

“That guy you went on a date with the other night?” Camille asks. “Logan, tell me you didn’t talk about James on your date.”

“What? It wasn’t a big deal. Kendall said he wasn’t feeling any chemistry and neither was I,” Logan says. “And besides, he was the one who offered to listen, so if it wasn’t okay, he wouldn’t have offered,” he continues to explain.

“I guess. Anyway, I really do think it’s time for you two to settle everything,” Camille says, getting back to the topic at hand.

“I don’t know if I can do that, Camille.”

“What? Why not?”

Logan takes a deep breath, the words already forming a lump in his throat. “He came into the café the day after I saw him at the diner, and he – he was with his boyfriend.”

“Oh, Logan,” Camille says, voice filled with sorrow, and it makes Logan’s eyes sting.

“And I’m supposed to meet up with him when he texts me the plans, and I can’t, Camille.” Logan’s voice breaks off at the end, throat squeezing tight around the words he’s trying to get out.

“You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

Logan nods his head then looks away, ashamed. He doesn’t want to be and he hates his head and his heart for still wanting James.

“It doesn’t matter,” Logan says after a few minutes of silence. “Whenever he texts me, I’m just going to tell him I can’t make it, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“I don’t think it will be,” Camille points out. “He’ll keep trying; you know he will.”

Logan hates to admit it, even to himself, but he knows Camille is right. He knows how James is, how determined he can be when he wants something bad enough, and his drive, his passion for getting it, has always been one of the things that attracted Logan to James.

“I can’t let him hurt me again, Camille,” Logan whispers, heart clenching in his chest at the thought.

“I know, Logan, but maybe this is your chance. Maybe things will be completely different from how they were in high school. If you take the chance, maybe you and James could have something special.”

“If I take the chance, it gives him just as much of an opportunity to hurt me,” Logan says vehemently, sticking to his guns. He can’t let himself think he has any kind of chance with James, can’t let that hope blossom in his chest because he knows all it’ll do is open himself up for disappointment.

“But you don’t know that, Logan,” Camille says, just as passionately.

“Why are you suddenly on his side?” Logan asks, ripping his hand out of Camille’s.

“I’m not!” Camille shouts. “It’s been two years. You need to at least talk to him, get past all the bad stuff that happened between the two of you. I know how bad he hurt you, Logan, but you’re still just as much in love with him now as you were then, and you owe it to yourself to see where this goes.”

Logan lets all the fight drain out of him, feels nothing but shaky and so damn exposed.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he says, shaking his head.

“Logan,” Camille pleads, but Logan cuts her off, holding up his hand to tell her to stop.

“Just drop it, please,” he says, the words grating in his throat. He turns on his heel and retreats to his bedroom, ignoring Camille’s calls of his name.

He doesn’t want to think about this anymore, wants to go back to a week ago before James showed up again, when his life was carefully pieced together and he was firm in thinking he was moving on. His entire world has been tipped upside-down now and he has no idea what to do.

Closure. He knows he needs to talk to James if he ever wants to move on with his life, but the idea paralyzes him with fear. There’s so much that could go wrong, could be exactly like high school all over again, but deep down he knows there’s a chance that things could go right, that this really could be his chance, but even if it might be, James has a boyfriend and Logan has no intentions of getting in the way of that.

Logan pulls in a deep breath and lets it out slow, already knowing that whatever James plans, he’s not going to decline. Even after the years that have passed, he still can’t quite say no to him.

His life, it sucks.


	4. Chapter 4

\--

\--

Days pass and Logan doesn’t hear from James. He tries not to let it get to him, tells himself that this is what he expected, but it does little to ease the overwhelming disappointment he feels.

He’s cleaning up in the kitchen of the café when Erica, one of his coworkers, comes in, brows drawn in confusion.

“Someone left this for you,” she says, handing him a folded up napkin.

Logan quickly wipes his hands off on his shirt, says, “Thanks,” as he takes the napkin from her fingers and carefully unfolds it.

_Stopped in to say hi but I guess you’re busy in the back. I’ll see you later. – J_

Logan can’t stop the flurry of warmth that surges up from his belly and spreads through his body. He wasn’t expecting James to pop back in at the café, wasn’t expecting to see or hear from him at all given how he hasn’t heard from James in a few days, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t tamp down the happy satisfaction he feels.

_This doesn’t mean anything_ he tells himself as he folds up the napkin and slides it into his pocket. He’s getting his hopes up, he knows he is, and he can’t let it happen. Maybe it’s just his way of proving he’s serious about trying to be friends again. It’s the only logical explanation Logan can come up with.

He gets back to work, washing the rest of the dishes and ignoring the way Erica wants to ask what the note says. He smiles to himself when he hears Erica walking away, huffing under her breath. He never quite realized just how nosy his coworkers are.

\--

By the time he gets out of work, there’s a text from James waiting for him when he turns on his phone.

_Hope u got the note. Sry I didn’t stick around. Anyway, dinner @ red’s tmrw @ 7. y/n?_

It’s the same place he first saw James at, where he and Kendall went on their failure of a date, and he can’t help but chuckle. It’s probably one of the only places James knows right now if he’s only just moved to L.A.

He quickly types out a reply, deleting and retyping it a handful of times before he holds his breath and hits send.

There’s no way he’s getting out of it now, not unless he fakes sick or tells James something else came up, but. He doesn’t want to do that. Even with the nerves making his hands shake, he’s feeling cautiously optimistic about seeing James. If nothing comes from it, at least he’ll get the closure he needs to move on. It’s really all he’s hoping for.

\--

\--

If he’s honest with himself, James really expected Logan to say no, so it was a pleasant surprise when he received Logan’s confirmation.

He’s been worrying himself sick for the last 20-some odd hours, barely managing a few hours of sleep through his excitement. He was up with the sun, ran for an hour and a half in an attempt to burn off the restless energy that’s been buzzing through him, hit the nearest gym he could find when that didn’t work, going at the punching bag until he was disgusting and dripping with sweat.

He returned to his apartment, showered, made lunch, and spent hours channel surfing, finding nothing that could hold his attention.

By the time 6 o’clock rolls around, James is ready to come out of his skin. He’s changed his outfit a handful of times, styled and restyled his hair just as much, and he’s in the middle of changing again when the door to his apartment opens and shuts.

He knows it’s Jett before he sees or hears him, and he curses himself for not taking back Jett’s key when he kicked him out.

“And where are you going?” Jett asks when he walks into James’ bedroom, leaning against the doorframe.

“Out,” James replies, short and terse.

“Got a date with that nerdy friend of yours?”

James grits his teeth, deciding it’s not worth punching Jett and showing up to dinner with his knuckles swollen.

“No, we’re just having dinner,” James says. “And anyways, even if it was a date, it wouldn’t be any of your damn business because we are not together.”

“Oh, c’mon, James, don’t be like that,” Jett purrs, pushing away from the doorframe and stepping in close, trailing the tips of his fingers down James’ stomach to the waistband of his jeans. “I can help you take the edge off,” he whispers, lowering his voice seductively.

James smacks Jett’s hand away, pushing at his chest to get him to back up.

“What are you doing here, Jett?” he asks, trying to keep a handle on his temper.

“Came to pick up my stuff,” Jett replies. “Have you forgotten you kicked me out?”

James snorts out a laugh. “No way in hell I could forget that. I want my key back, by the way.”

James turns to his closet, rifling through the hangers in search of a different shirt, ignoring the noise Jett’s making behind him. He settles on a white v-neck, his lucky one, deciding he’ll definitely need all the luck he can get tonight, and pulls off the shirt he’s wearing, ignoring Jett’s whistling as he pulls on the new one.

“Can you hurry and leave?” James asks, smoothing the shirt down against his stomach.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t want me here,” Jett replies.

“Wow, what gave you that idea?” James asks, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Jett scoffs at him, throwing his copy of the apartment key to the floor. “I’m out of here,” he says, hefting his dufflebag over his shoulder, pulling his suitcase behind him.

“Good fucking riddance,” James says under his breath, mentally pumping his fist when the door slams shut.

He looks over at the clock on his bedside table, realizing he has less than twenty minutes before he has to meet Logan. He grabs a gray button-down off a hanger and pulls it on over his t-shirt, then darts into the bathroom to check his hair, making sure it looks good.

He checks his pocket for his wallet, remembering it’s still sitting on top of his dresser in his room. He grabs it on his way out to the living room, slipping it into his back pocket. His phone goes in his front pocket after he checks that Logan hasn’t called or texted to cancel, and he shoves his feet into his shoes at the door, doubling back to the living room to grab his keys off the coffee table.

After turning off all the lights, he takes a breath and opens his apartment door, locking it behind him.

\--

James’ stomach is completely in knots by the time he arrives at the diner, parking his car across the street. His palms are still sweaty, no matter how many times he wipes them off on his jeans, and his heart is beating loudly in his chest.

_C’mon, Diamond, you can do this_ , he tells himself, psyching himself up as he exits his car and crosses the street. His entire body is tense with nerves as he pulls the door open, and his throat goes dry when he sees Logan already waiting.

He stands there for a minute, frozen to the spot while his eyes move up and down the parts of Logan he can see. Logan looks so much better than he did two years ago, the dark smudges under his eyes no longer there, his face, his entire body, nowhere near the sickly thin he was, and though he looks so incredibly nervous, he’s – goddamn, he’s gorgeous and James is an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

“Hey,” James says softly, sliding into the seat across from Logan.

“Hi,” Logan says, offering up a nervous smile.

“Sorry I didn’t stick around the café yesterday,” James says. “They said you were busy and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s alright. I wasn’t exactly expecting you to show up there anyway, so,” Logan replies, shrugging his shoulders.

Their waiter comes, quick and efficient, filling their glasses with water while they look over the menu, jotting down their orders before fetching and returning with their drinks.

“So,” James says, tapping his thumb against the tabletop. This really isn’t going the way he thought it would. Everything is already tense and awkward, and Logan seems preoccupied with tearing his napkin to shreds.

“What’re you going to school for?” he asks, deciding talking about Logan’s education won’t be too harmless.

“Uh, counseling,” Logan says, looking up from pile of torn napkin pieces he’s made.

James barely resists the urge to slam his head down onto the tabletop. Counseling ties into what happened to him in high school, and that’s not a topic James feels ready to approach yet.

“That’s gotta be a lot of work, huh?” he asks, trying to stay on the surface of the topic.

“Yeah, it is, but it’ll be worth it in the end,” Logan says, cheeks dimpling from how wide his smile is, and, god, James didn’t even realized he’d missed seeing them so much until now.

Their food is brought to them then, and Logan has the grace to look embarrassed when the waiter sees the little mess he’s made.

Conversation lapses in favor of eating, but instead of it feeling comfortable, it’s still awkward, making every bite James takes of his burger tasteless.

He tries catching Logan’s eye a few times, just to offer him a smile, but Logan steadfastly refuses to meet his gaze, eyes locked on the salad he’s eating.

James gives up trying. It feels like there’s a bunch of rocks sitting in the pit of his stomach, knowing the chance to make things right is slipping through his fingers with every second that ticks by.

He makes himself finish the burger he ordered even though it does nothing but upset his stomach, and when the waiter drops the check off, clearing away their dishes, the night is almost certainly over. He reaches for the check before Logan can, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet and pulling out his debit card.

“I suggested the place, so I’ll pay,” he says, but Logan still won’t look at him and he hates this so fucking much.

When they get outside, Logan’s already turning to head in what James assumes is the direction of where he’s parked, but James isn’t ready for the night to be over, not until this awkwardness hanging over them disappears, so he blurts out the first thing he can think of.

“Do you wanna talk a walk with me?”

Logan looks around nervously before he nods his head, a barely perceptible movement, and then he’s walking closer to James and James relaxes just a little, knowing he hasn’t completely lost his chance yet.

“Is there a park nearby or something?” he asks, still not familiar with the area.

“Um, I think there’s one a few blocks that way,” Logan says, pointing in the direction they’re facing.

“Do you mind walking there?” James asks, unsure of what he’ll do if Logan says he’d rather not.

“I guess not,” Logan replies, already starting to walk in the direction of the park.

James lengthens his stride until he catches up, then falls into step beside Logan, resisting the urge bubbling up inside him to grab Logan’s hand and lace their fingers together by shoving his hands into his pockets.

It’s still warm outside, the sun just beginning to set, the sky filled with purples and blues and oranges and reds. It’s a beautiful sight and it makes James wonder if suggesting a trip to the park during the sunset made it seem like too much of a date. It’s too late to take back the offer, though, the park already in sight.

“So, um,” James starts, taking a seat at the first bench that comes into sight. “I uh – I wanted to apologize for how things happened back in high school. The way I just ditched you, I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough times to make up for it.”

James’ heart is beating so hard, so loud, his hands are shaking and his stomach is turning. Logan doesn’t say anything, barely acknowledges that he heard James at all, so James keeps going, stumbling over the words he’s wanted to say for so long.

“I was just – after that double-date with you and Camille and me and Jennifer, I don’t know. We went to this party at Mercedes’ house and I had too much to drink and so did Jennifer, or so I thought, and one thing led to another and. 

It was stupid and it shouldn’t have happened. I didn’t even want to be with her at that point. We argued over everything and the only time things were okay was when you were around, something Jennifer was all too happy to throw in my face the morning after, and she gave me this sob story about how I never paid attention to her and I was more concerned about you than her and – I dunno, it was a shitty thing to do, ditching you to make her happy, especially when I didn’t even want to be with her, but I couldn’t just break up with her after that. I hated having that reputation and I didn’t want it being the last thing people thought about me in high school.”

“Why are you telling me this, James?” Logan asks softly, looking down at the ground.

“There’s a point to it, I swear,” James says quickly, afraid that Logan’s going to turn and leave at any moment if he doesn’t get it all out.

“Okay,” Logan says, and James takes it as his cue to continue.

“When the rumors about you started, I didn’t want to believe them. Not because there’s anything wrong with you being gay, but because I was so sure that you would have told me if you were. I was upset and hurt that you didn’t, and I was so fucking angry at the shit people were saying about you. I don’t know how I managed to resist punching them all,” James admits with a chuckle, shaking his head at himself.

“Anyway, I was acting kind of off after I heard them, and Jennifer asked me what was wrong, but I told her it was nothing. She asked if it was about the rumors that were going around about you, and I told her that it was. The things she said, the name she called you; I broke up with her instantly, told her to get out of my house. I didn’t – I couldn’t believe that she would say those kinds of things and it made me so damn angry.”

“Stop, James,” Logan says, voice strained.

“I’m trying to explain all this to you, please, just listen,” James says, not caring that he’s damn near begging Logan to hear him out.

“Save your explanation,” Logan spits out. “None of what happened to me would’ve happened if you didn’t decide Jennifer was worth more of your time than I was.”

“Did you not listen to a thing I just said? That’s not how it was at all,” James fires back.

“I was so torn up over you ditching me like that that I didn’t know what to do. I thought I did something wrong; I thought you decided I wasn’t worth being friends with anymore, I thought – I don’t even know. I made a stupid mistake because of how you treated me and I became everyone’s point of mocking,” Logan continues, bowling right over what James said as though he didn’t hear it.

“That’s not fair, Logan. You can’t blame that on me,” James says, nauseated, voice suddenly shaky.

“But you picked Jennifer over me, James! I was your best friend!” Logan shouts, jumping up from the bench, pacing back and forth in front of it. “If things were as bad as you said they were, why didn’t you break up with her sooner, huh? Why let it go on so long? Why let that happen?”

“You know why,” James says, turning his head away, knowing his reason for not breaking up with her sooner is the stupidest thing ever.

“Don’t even give me that bull about not wanting to ruin either of your perfect never been dumped records. It’s just as stupid now as it was then, and obviously you thought the same thing too when you finally dumped her, but I guess it was too little, too late. You’d already kicked me to the curb.”

James has never seen Logan so upset, so angry, and it’s not something he ever wants to see again in his life, especially knowing he’s the cause of it.

“I just –,” Logan breaks off, shaking his head. “You were my best friend, James, and you chose her over me because, what? She didn’t like our friendship? She didn’t like me? It’s bullshit, James. Where were you when I needed you, huh? Where was my best fucking friend when I was getting the shit kicked out of me, when I was being pushed into lockers, when I was being called a faggot every time I walked through the halls?”

James feels sick, his eyes stinging at the absolute hurt and anger in Logan’s voice.

“I went to your house, Logan,” James says, pushing the words past the lump in his throat. “I tried going to see you when you didn’t show up at school, but your mom said you weren’t home. I called your damn phone, only to find out it was disconnected, and do you even know the thoughts that were going through my head? No, you don’t. I tried, dammit, but every time I wanted to approach you, Camille was there, whisking you away, and I couldn’t do a damn thing because she was always there and I doubted she’d want me around after everything that happened.”

James’ chest is heaving by the time he finishes, emotions swirling and building inside him, and he wants to make this better, wants to put this all behind them so they can move forward, but now he doesn’t think it’s possible, and damn does it make his heart hurt even more than it already was.

\--

\--

Logan doesn’t have the strength to keep going; he feels like he’s been flayed open, his insides out there for everyone to see. This is – this is too much, too fucking much and he can’t even try to process it all. He doesn’t know what to say to James anymore, if there’s anything he can even say, and it’s with a heavy heart that he turns and walks away, ignoring the way James is calling for him to come back and the tears that are slipping down his cheeks.

He keeps his head bowed as he hurriedly makes his way to his car, his strides quick and purposeful, hoping with all his might that James won’t chase after him because he’d probably do something stupid like forgive him and he can’t, he can’t, not right now, not when he doesn’t know which way is up and which is down.

Logan speeds up when his car is in sight, unlocking the doors and climbing in. He takes a minute to calm himself, deep breaths over and over until he feels good enough to drive. He wipes his eyes with the heels of his hands, wishing he had eye drops to remove the redness he knows is there.

After deeming himself collected enough, he fastens his seatbelt, starts the car, and reverses out of his parking stall, driving in the direction of his apartment.

\--

Logan doesn’t tell Camille anything about how his night with James went, and he’s more than surprised that Camille doesn’t ask. He sees the looks she gives him whenever they’re in the same room, the heavy look of worry and concern that crosses her face making Logan avert his eyes because he can’t take Camille looking at him like that without his throat closing up and tears pricking at his eyes.

He’s become withdrawn, closed in on himself, and every day he’s simply going through the motions of waking up, showering, working, eating – if he remembers, or if Camille shoves a plate of food at him –, sleeping, rinse and repeat.

When he’s not working, he barely leaves his room, stays huddled under the covers and pushes everything out of his mind, wishing it would all just be blank.

It never works, though, no matter how much or how hard he tries, and his conversation with James replays over and over in his head, the words twisting together until they’ve lost all sense of meaning.

His phone goes ignored, chiming periodically to alert him of a new message, and he knows without even looking that it’s James. If it weren’t for the fact that he uses the alarm on his phone when he has early shifts at the café, he’d let the battery run out and not bother to charge it. Every message gets deleted without being read, and instead of making Logan feel better, it chips away at his heart, piece by piece.

Logan hates the days he’s not scheduled to work; it gives him entirely too much time to think and he finds himself dissecting every word James said.

He doesn’t understand why James would have stayed with Jennifer so long if he didn’t want to be with her. Isn’t part of being in a relationship enjoying the company of the person you’re with? He’d always thought they had a pretty good relationship; James and Jennifer seemed so wrapped up in each other sometimes, but now Logan’s left wondering how much of that was just an act.

It’s almost laughable that Jennifer was jealous of how much attention James paid Logan. She wasn’t there in the beginning; she didn’t see the way James pined, the way he always wanted to look his best to impress her, the way he’d drift of daydreaming about her. Maybe James did pay a little more attention to Logan when he was around, but that wasn’t his fault. Maybe it was just James’ way of making Logan feel comfortable and included. There was no reason for her to be jealous; it wasn’t Logan’s hand James was holding or Logan’s shoulders James’ arm was wrapped around or the small of Logan’s back James’ hand would carefully rest on when they walked somewhere.

There was no logical reason for her to be jealous. She had James in a way Logan didn’t. Shouldn’t that have been enough for her?

Logan’s glad James didn’t repeat the things Jennifer said. He’s heard every variation of homophobic slurs known to man and he doesn’t care to ever hear them again. He can’t deny that it doesn’t pique his curiosity, though. What exactly did she say that pushed James to the point where he finally broke up with her?

That’s still something he can’t quite wrap his head around. James broke up with Jennifer for him. Well, okay, not exactly _for_ him, but in his defense. It makes his belly fill with warmth, lights him up from the inside out, and he quickly stops that train of thought because – because it doesn’t mean anything, not in the face of James not being there when Logan needed him, but –

James tried. Logan knows he did. He vaguely remembers his mom mentioning James had stopped by, but he was still reeling from the threatening calls he had received, the severity of the situation he was in, and it just – it slipped his mind. He knows it’s not a good excuse, but it’s the truth.

Another memory pops up on the heels of that one, and Logan remembers seeing James from across the hall, how worried and concerned James looked, how everything seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, their eyes locked, Logan’s heart a slow thud in his chest, but then Camille was tugging him along, talking a mile a minute about everything and nothing, mindless chatter to keep Logan from getting stuck in his own head.

He realizes now that the rift between him and James is just as much his fault as it is James’. He should’ve tried talking to James, shouldn’t have let things get this bad, and it makes him sick to know all of this could have been avoided if he would’ve just tried.

It was so hard, though, and he did what he had to do to protect himself. He was so confused and hurt over James ditching him for Jennifer that he’s not even sure he would’ve taken the chance to talk to James anyway. If James would’ve been honest with him, if he would’ve just talked to him about what was going on with Jennifer, so much of this could have been avoided.

Then again, he wasn’t exactly honest and forthcoming about his sexuality, but it was a nonissue at that point. It wasn’t getting in the way of anything, no one but Camille knew, and it just wasn’t a big deal. Until suddenly it was, but by then it was too late.

So much wasted time. It makes Logan even more upset, makes him want to scream or punch something, tears of frustration sliding wetly down his face, and he never wants to get out of bed, never wants to leave his room, wishing so fiercely he could go back in time and change it all.

He knows he can’t, though, and the knowledge makes him curl up tight, clutching a pillow to his chest, willing away the pain and regret he feels.

\--

“Logan, it’s been almost two weeks. You need to quit with the moping already. It’s not doing you any good,” Camille says through the door, her exasperation clearly audible.

Logan doesn’t answer, rolling over onto his side so that his back faces the door when Camille inevitably comes in.

“I’m not kidding, Logan. I’ve given you enough time to yourself. You need to get your ass outta bed for something other than work,” Camille says a little louder, her voice no longer distorted when she pushes open the bedroom door. “And I have just the thing to make that happen.”

“Go ‘way, Camille,” Logan says, burying his face in his pillow.

“Not happening, buddy. You need to get up, shower, and make yourself look presentable, because you, Logan Mitchell, have a date tonight.”

Logan nearly chokes on his spit, coughing, but it quickly turns into a laugh. She cannot be serious.

“Hate to break it to you, Cam, but I’m not going anywhere,” Logan says, emphasizing his point by burrowing further into his blankets.

“C’mon, Logan,” Camille wheedles. “It’ll be good for you.”

Logan appreciates what Camille’s trying to do for him, he really does, but if he doesn’t even know what’s good for him, how is she going to know?

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Logan replies.

“If you don’t get out of that bed in the next two minutes, so help me, I will drag you out of it by your ear,” Camille growls.

Logan winces, cupping his hands over his ears protectively. “They’re sensitive,” he mumbles, though he knows it won’t make any difference to Camille.

“All the more reason for you to get out of bed on your own, isn’t it?” She’s smirking, Logan knows she is, can hear it in her damn voice.

Logan throws the covers off, rolling over on his opposite side before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up. “There, happy?” he asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m gettin’ there,” Camille replies. “Now go shower,” she orders, then turns and walks out of his room.

Logan grumbles to himself the short distance it takes to get to the bathroom and the entire time he showers. When he gets out, he puts on a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt, plopping down on the sofa in the living room next to Camille.

“That is not date apparel,” Camille remarks, looking Logan up and down.

“I’m not going on the date, Camille,” Logan says, standing his ground.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m really not.”

“Oh, yes, you really are.”

Logan gives up. He knows there’s no way he’s going to win and Camille’s just going to keep at it until he says yes. He loses either way.

“God, fine!” Logan says, throwing his arms up in defeat.

“Yes!” Camille shouts, pumping her fist into the air. “C’mon, let’s go get you ready.”

Camille’s off, darting into his bedroom before Logan even has a chance to decline her offer. He’s an adult, dammit; he’s fully capable of picking out his own clothes. Obviously, Camille doesn’t quite feel the same.

“Get your butt in here, Mitchell!” Camille calls out.

Logan sighs, pushing himself up and off the sofa, joining Camille in his room.

\--

Two hours later – seriously, two hours to pick a damn outfit and style his hair – Camille’s pushing Logan out the door, piece of paper with an address scribbled on it crumpled in his fist.

“Wait. You’re not going to tell me anything about the guy I’m meeting?” Logan asks, digging his heels into the floor so Camille will stop shoving at him.

“Nope,” Camille says, smiling brightly.

Logan has a bad feeling about this.

“Now shoo! You don’t want to keep him waiting.” Camille shuts the door before Logan can form a reply.

“Rude!” he shouts through the door. He straightens out the piece of paper and reads the address on it. It doesn’t seem familiar to him, but then again, there are a lot of places he’s yet to see in L.A.

He inputs the address into the navigation system of his car when he gets into it, tossing the paper into the passenger seat.

Logan drives for what feels like hours, though that’s probably just his nerves talking, and the navigation system leads him to what he’s sure is the wrong place. He pulls over to the curb, grabs the paper and reads the address again, checking it against the address the GPS is showing.

They match.

From the outside, the restaurant looks decently upscale, but when Logan gets inside, everything is pristine and elegant. There are gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, giving off a warm and inviting glow. The tables look to be oak, polished to a shine, and the waiters are dressed in neatly pressed black slacks, white button-down shirts tucked in.

Just looking at them makes Logan feel severely underdressed in his dark gray dress pants, a light blue shirt, and a dark blue tie that feels like it’s choking him.

That alone makes him want to bolt, and then – then he catches sight of James sitting at a table, the seat across from his empty.

Oh, god, she didn’t.

Logan’s more than ready to take off, already turning in the direction of the door, but James is beckoning him over and Logan’s moving towards him before he even realizes it.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” James asks when he approaches, gesturing at the seat across from him.

“I don’t – I don’t understand,” Logan says, a little more than confused.

James looks up at him, and the confusion mirrored on his face is what makes Logan sit down.

“Um, Camille said – she said that you wanted to have dinner with me,” James says, looking around helplessly.

“When did you see Camille?” Logan asks, irritation making his skin crawl. He can’t believe Camille didn’t tell him.

“Uh, a couple days ago. I went to your work, but I guess it was your day off or something, and Camille was there. She said something about you wanting to have dinner with me, but that you were too afraid to ask me yourself,” James explains nervously.

“I didn’t – I never –“ Logan breaks off on a groan of frustration, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I don’t know why she’d do something like that. She only just told me about it today, but she didn’t really say much. Told me I had a date, gave me the address, and shoved me out the door. I didn’t – I didn’t realize.”

“Oh.” James breathes out the word, his shoulders sagging, and Logan has no fucking idea what he’s doing here.

“I’m – I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry,” Logan says softly, rising from his seat. 

He’s about to walk away from what could possibly be the greatest thing of his life, but James stops him, says, “Logan, please,” in this voice that hits Logan straight in the heart, full of emotions Logan can’t bring himself to name.

Logan doesn’t want to cause a scene, doesn’t want to draw everyone’s attention to them, so he does the only thing he can do: he sits right back down.

“I don’t think I can do this, James,” Logan admits quietly, nerves threatening to choke him at what he’s about to say.

“I don’t – you don’t think you can do what?” James asks, brows knit in confusion.

“This,” Logan says, gesturing at the table, at James, then himself. “I can’t – I used to be so in love with you, James, and part of me always will be, but I don’t. I don’t know if I can handle this if you’re just messing around.”

“Can you – can you look at me, please?” James asks, and Logan doesn’t want to, doesn’t want James to see the way his eyes won’t stop watering, but he’s always been powerless against James, so he lifts his head, taken aback by the emotions swirling in James’ eyes.

“I’m not messing around, Logan,” James says, whisper quiet. “It took me awhile to figure it out, but I was in love with you, too, and I think, if I had the chance, I’d fall in love with you all over again. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.”

Logan’s almost certain his heart has stopped beating. This can’t actually be happening. He must be dreaming. He has to be. There’s no way – 

“Ow. What was that for?” Logan asks, rubbing the spot on his forearm that James just pinched.

“To prove to you that you’re not dreaming,” James says, lips turned up in a soft smile.

“I just – you’re serious? This isn’t some kind of joke, right? Did Camille put you up to this? Wait, what about Jett?” Logan might be going a little hysterical, but he can’t believe this is actually happening.

“I’m a little hurt that you’d think I’d joke about something like this, or that I’d go along with this if it was Camille’s plan,” James says, smile dropping from his face. “As for Jett, he’s long gone. He was never anything special.”

Their waiter intervenes, introducing himself before asking if they're ready to order. Realizing they haven't even looked over their menus, Logan shakes his head, says, "No," and their waiter nods politely, telling them he'll give them a few more minutes to look them over. He excuses himself, disappearing as quietly as he came.

“No, I know you wouldn’t,” Logan says, and he feels like an idiot for even hinting that he’d think James was capable of something like that. “I just – I dreamed of this moment, y’know, but I never believed it’d actually happen.”

“You better start believing it, man, cuz it’s totally happening,” James says, knocking his foot against Logan’s under the table.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Logan replies, unable to keep the smile off his face.

He knows it’s not going to be easy, knows that there are still some things they have to work through, that they’re not the same people they were in high school, and he’s not sure if they’ll ever be able to have the kind of chemistry they had then, but here, right now, with James smiling back at him, his eyes soft and full of care, Logan’s willing to take that chance.


	5. Chapter 5

\--  
 _Epilogue – 6 months later_  
\--

Logan sighs, dropping his backpack on the floor the moment he steps inside his apartment, rolling his shoulders back and forth to loosen the tightness in his muscles. “Finals are over,” he says, barely able to muster up the excitement he feels because he’s so damn tired.

“Well, aren’t you just the luckiest?” Camille asks, head bent over the textbook opened in her lap. “I still have two left.”

“Poor baby,” Logan teases, ducking out of the way to avoid the pillow Camille throws at him.

“Whatever, Mitchell. Go take a nap. James said he’d be over in a few hours, something about wanting to give you time to decompress from the madness that is final exams.”

Logan chuckles softly, but it quickly turns into a yawn. “Good luck,” he says, then heads to his bedroom, landing face-down on the mattress.

It’s been a long six months, the first couple filled with ups and downs, but things have mostly smoothed themselves out the last few. It was rocky in the beginning, trying to make the relationship with James work. Logan was scared out of his head half the time that he’d do something or say something wrong and James would decide he just didn’t want to be with him anymore, and he ended up closing himself off to avoid the inevitable hurt.

It took Camille repeatedly telling him how big of an idiot he was being and how much he was freaking James out for him to pull his head out of his ass and realize that the way he was acting then was going to be the thing that ended up driving James away.

James was patient through it all, reassuring Logan that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon until Logan finally started to believe it. As hard as it had been for Logan to trust anyone other than Camille, and thinking he’d never really be able to trust James again, it was surprisingly easy to open himself up to James, especially after moving forward from what happened in high school.

Logan apologized for his share, told James that he should’ve given him a chance to explain, and while James agreed with that, he told Logan he could’ve tried a little harder, too, that he was so fucking sorry for how everything happened, that Jennifer never meant anywhere near as much to him as Logan did and always would, and it was a mutual decision then and there to put it behind them, to leave the past in the past and move forward together.

So far, Logan hasn’t regretted it for a single second, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

\--

Logan wakes up to a warm heat against his back and a strong arm wrapped around his waist.

“When did you get here?” he asks sleepily, covering his mouth around a yawn.

“About a half hour ago,” James replies, placing a soft kiss behind Logan’s ear. “If you’re tired, we can reschedule our reservation and just stay in for the night.”

“No, I’ll be alright,” Logan says, turning so he’s face to face with James. “Hi,” he breathes out in the space between them, quickly swooping in to place a chaste kiss to James’ lips.

“What? That’s all I get?” James asks, pouting.

“My breath is gross,” Logan says, pushing against James’ chest when James tries to lean in anyway. “C’mon, let me go brush my teeth, and then you’ll get all the kisses you want.”

James quickly rolls off the bed, much to Logan’s amusement.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Logan asks, shaking his head fondly.

“Pretty sure the plan was to give me lots of kisses after you brush your teeth, so move your butt, mister!”

\--

They kiss until their lips are swollen and tingling, Logan straddling James’ lap, breathing hard and heavy as they both try to ignore the incessant curl of lust and want swimming low in their bellies.

Logan rests his head on James’ shoulder, fighting hard to catch his breath. James can’t stop touching, won’t stop touching, running the tips of his fingers up and down Logan’s back beneath his shirt.

“Okay, okay,” Logan says, “maybe we should start getting ready,” and he tries to pull away, but James grips his hips, keeping him firmly in place.

“Mmm, we still have some time,” he says, pressing soft kisses along the smooth skin of Logan’s throat.

“James, c’mon,” Logan protests, and he has to bite down hard on his bottom lip to stifle the moans of appreciation that want to slip out.

“Fine,” James says, sighing dramatically, letting his grip on Logan’s hips fall away, but not before stealing one last kiss.

Logan moves from James’ lap, standing on the side of the bed. He takes a minute to take in the view, James’ perfectly styled hair now completely disheveled, his perfectly pink lips blood red and swollen.

It hits him all over again how insanely lucky he is, how happy he is, how something he never thought would happen really is happening, and it floods him with warmth, swimming through his entire body, heart beating triple-time at how much he loves James.

“What?” James asks, eyebrow cocked, pulling Logan out of his thoughts.

Logan blushes and turns away, not even bothering to hide the smile on his lips. “Just thinkin’ about how good you look, is all,” he says, forcing his eyes to meet James’.

James smirks. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Logan feels his face heat up and he has to turn away lest he say something stupid.

“I’m uh – I’m gonna go shower,” he says, and before James can say anything, he adds, “alone.”

“You’re no fun,” James teases.

Logan shakes his head as he walks away, barely able to stifle his laughter.

\--

Logan’s dressed in jeans and a blue plaid button-down when he emerges from the bedroom to the living room where James is watching t.v.

“Oh, nope, no,” James says, shaking his head. “You’re gonna have to change. Think fancy dinner.”

“It’d help if you’d just tell me where we’re going!” Logan says, throwing his arms up.

“But that would ruin the surprise,” James says, winking. He’s been incredibly vague about his plans for the night, only going so far as to tell Logan they have a reservation somewhere. Where that somewhere is, is beyond Logan.

Logan goes back into the bedroom to change, rifling through his closet to find something suitable. He strips off his jeans and pulls on a pair of black dress pants, then changes his shirt for a white button-down, grabbing the powder-blue tie from where it’s hanging. He pulls the black suit jacket from the back of his closet as an afterthought, deciding that if it’s too much he can just leave it in the car.

“This better?” he asks when he returns to the living room, twirling around dramatically.

“Much,” James says, and when Logan finally focuses on what James is wearing, he sees that they’re dressed almost identically, except where his tie is a shade of blue, James’ is a skinny black.

“Just gotta fix my hair then I’ll be ready,” Logan says, turning around and quickly retreating to the bathroom. But god, James is so fucking gorgeous. How is he supposed to make it through the night with James looking like that?

_Breathe, Mitchell_ , Logan tells himself, hands clutching the porcelain of the sink.

“Open up!” Camille’s voice calls from the other side of the door.

Logan opens the door and pulls her in, closing it quickly behind her. He’s maybe kind of panicking a little now.

Camille whistles, long and high-pitched. “You look amazing,” she says. “Except for that hair. C’mon, give me the mousse and hairdryer.”

Fifteen minutes later, Logan’s hair is styled perfectly and Camille’s admiring her handiwork.

“What’s that look for?” she asks, hands on her hips.

“What? What look? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Logan babbles, smoothing down his tie.

“You’re freaking out. What’s going on?” Damn Camille for always being able to pinpoint when something’s wrong.

“I just – I don’t know. Six months, that’s kinda big for me, y’know? And, I mean, I’m sure it’s big for James, too. Neither of us has ever been with someone this long and I guess, I dunno, just nerves or something. I’m just being a freak,” Logan explains, looking down at the floor. 

“Everything’ll be fine, Logan. You guys are amazing together,” Camille says, honest and heartfelt.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Logan says, blowing out a slow breath.

“Of course I am,” Camille replies. “Anyway, just needed to stop in and pick up some clothes. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? And quit freaking out, everything will be just fine.”

Camille turns and exits the bathroom, leaving Logan to wonder where she’s going. She’s been unusually hush-hush about the situation, coming and going at odd hours when Logan knows she’s not in class or at work. He’s pretty certain she’s seeing someone, but without her willing to talk about it, he’s left with no real answers.

He pushes the thought aside, figuring Camille will talk to him about it when she’s ready.

She’s already gone by the time he exits the bathroom, and James is waiting impatiently on the sofa, tapping his foot against the floor.

“Finally,” James says, rising to a stand.

“Because you totally don’t take forever getting ready or anything,” Logan says with an eyeroll.

“Oh, I know I do, but you usually don’t,” James says, grabbing Logan by the hand. “Not that I mind, though. You look so fricken good.”

Logan’s face flushes, still not quite used to James’ praise. “C’mon,” he says, changing the subject. “Let’s go before we miss our reservation.”

\--

Logan’s breath catches in his throat when he catches sight of the restaurant. He’d had some kind of inkling that this is what James had planned, but seeing it is something else.

“Surprise,” James says nervously, grip tight on the steering wheel.

“Hey, this is awesome,” Logan says softly, placing his hand on top of James’ on the gear shifter.

“Yeah?” James asks, and Logan can hear how he’s still unsure.

“Yeah, definitely,” Logan says, trying his best to put as much reassurance into his voice as he can.

“Good,” James says, shoulders sagging in relief. He quickly maneuvers them into a parking stall and shuts off the car, jogging around the front of it to open Logan’s door for him.

Logan pushes him away playfully, muttering how he’s not a girl, but he allows James to lace their fingers together as they walk through the door. James greets the maître d, giving his name for the reservation, and then they’re being led back to their table where James pulls out Logan’s seat for him before taking his own.

“Your waiter will be with you shortly. Please take the time to look over your menus,” the maître d says, then leaves with a polite nod of his head.

\--

Dinner is easy and relaxed, soft conversation between bites of their meals. James starts fidgeting while they’re waiting for dessert to be brought out, and it automatically makes Logan nervous. Did he do something wrong? Did he say something wrong? Is James going to break up with him? Oh, god, he’s going to, this dinner was just a ruse, something nice so he could let him down easy. Oh, god.

James knocks their feet together to get Logan’s attention, asks, “Are you okay?” and Logan nods his head quickly, even though his insides are twisting up in knots.

James catches his hand, holding it softly in his own, brushing his thumb back and forth over Logan’s knuckles. “Hey,” he says, pulling Logan’s eyes up to his own. He pulls in a deep breath, blows it out, says, “I love you,” and his eyes are lit up, dazzling brilliantly in the soft light.

Logan promptly chokes on his spit and feels his face heat up. It’s just – he’s just – wow. It’s not something they’ve said to each other yet, not since that date Camille set them up on, and Logan’s been worrying the last ten minutes that James was going to break up with him when, in reality, James was going to tell him he loves him.

“That’s uh, not exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” James says, laughing shakily.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Just took me by surprise,” Logan says, swallowing down a mouthful of water. “I – me too. Love you, that is. I mean, I love you, too.”

_Goddamn, Logan, could you be any smoother?_ Logan thinks to himself.

“That’s – that’s good,” James says, blowing out a relieved breath. He can’t stop smiling, pink lips spread wide around white teeth and Logan feels it like a jolt everywhere.

“D-do you wanna spend the night?” Logan asks, throat clicking dryly as he swallows.

James’ brows furrow in confusion. “I thought that was already the plan?”

Logan tries again. “No, I mean, y’know, I want you to _spend the night_ ,” he says, trying to make it sound as seductive as he can, but he’s pretty sure he’s failing.

“I – oh. _Oh_.” James’ breath rushes out of him in a whoosh of air. “That’s – you know that’s not why I said it, right?”

“Of course I know that,” Logan replies, bristling. “Forget I mentioned it,” he says softly, feeling more than embarrassed.

“Hey, c’mon,” James says, gripping Logan’s hand tight. “I want to, god, do I want to, I just wanted to be sure you’re sure.”

“I am,” Logan says, and he is. Sure, he’s nervous, but this is big, huge. He’s giving over a huge part of himself to James, but he’s never been surer of anything in his life.

James flags down their waiter, shoots Logan a wink, then tells their waiter they’ve decided to skip dessert because he’s suddenly not feeling very well. Logan’s pretty sure their waiter knows what’s actually going on and it makes his face heat up, but he disappears and returns with their check. James hands over his credit card to pay for the dinner and Logan’s nerves flare up tenfold. They’re doing this; they’re really going to do this.

“Ready to go?” James asks, tucking his wallet into his back pocket.

“Yep, let’s go,” Logan replies.

The drive back to Logan’s apartment seems to fly by and before he knows it, he’s fumbling for the key to unlock the door.

“Let me,” James says softly from behind him, breath warm against Logan’s neck. He takes the key and slides it smoothly into the lock, turning it until it clicks. He guides Logan inside, toeing off his shoes by the door and waits for Logan to do the same before he leads them over to the sofa.

James helps Logan out of his suit jacket before he removes his own, draping them over the back of the sofa. He sits back against the corner, one leg stretched across the length of it, the other on the floor. Logan grabs the remote for the tv before he takes his place between James’ legs, resting his back against James’ chest, James’ hands folded on top of his stomach.

Logan can feel James’ heartbeat against his back and it calms his down, settling his nerves just a little. “What’d you wanna watch?” he asks, burrowing closer into James’ heat.

“Whatever you want is good with me,” James replies, sliding the tip of his nose against the sensitive skin behind Logan’s ear.

Logan’s pretty sure he’s not just talking about the tv.

He turns it to a random movie, something sci-fi from the looks of it, but he’s sure that in about two seconds, he’s not going to give a damn what the movie’s about. He lets the remote drop to the floor and covers James’ hands with his own, tilting his head to the side at the press of James’ lips.

It’s not that he expected this to be all quick and hurried, but he’s glad James is going slow like this, giving him the time to get comfortable, more relaxed. This is so different from the little they’ve done together and he’s afraid of messing it up. Making out until they’re both breathless is easy; rutting against each other until they’ve both come is easy; wrapping his fist around James and jerking him off is easy – once he learned all the spots that made James’ breath hitch and body shake, that is – but this, this is something he has no experience with and it’s a little intimidating that James does. He trusts James to take care of him, though, to go slow and careful and not hurt him.

James tugs at Logan’s shirt where it’s tucked in and Logan helps him pull it free. James’ fingertips skim the smooth skin of his belly, touch so light it’s almost ticklish. Combined with the soft presses of his lips and the teasing touch of his tongue, Logan feels himself hardening, can feel that James is, too, right up against the small of his back.

He inches back, hears James’ sharp intake of breath at the pressure and says, “Bedroom,” needing, wanting, to feel James against him.

Logan stumbles when he rises, heart beating rapidly against his chest. James is there to steady him, hands on his hips as they stagger to the bedroom.

The door closes softly behind them and Logan tugs James in by his tie, wrapping it around his fist to bring James’ head lower. He lets it go at the first touch of James’ lips against his, brings the same hand up to cradle James’ face as the kiss gets deeper, their lips sliding together wetly.

It’s such an intoxicating rush, one Logan doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to, James’ lips and tongue stoking the fire in his belly, lust and want zipping through his veins.

He tugs at James’ shirt with his free hand, pulling it free from his pants, slipping the tiny buttons through the holes until he gets up to James’ tie. He pulls back, chest heaving, eyes heavy-lidded, fingers shaky as he loosens James’ tie and pulls it over his head. James finishes the last of the buttons then shrugs his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor behind him.

Logan takes in the sight of James’ suntanned skin, the flush of arousal across his chest, the dips and valleys of his toned stomach and he puts his hand there, tracing the lines of muscles with the tips of his fingers.

James, pouting that he’s the only one who’s shirtless, quickly unbuttons Logan’s shirt and unknots his tie, ridding him of them both.

The heat of their skin pressed together sends a shiver down Logan’s spine and he can’t suppress the groan that spills out. James licks the sound right out of his mouth, hands cradling Logan’s face as he licks in deeper, the slick slide of his tongue against the roof of Logan’s mouth, the backs of his teeth, the smooth insides of his cheeks.

Logan throws his head back at the feel of James’ lips sliding down his neck, burying his fingers in James’ hair as James licks across his collarbone, tiny little nips of his teeth sending pricks of pain that become pleasure down low in his belly.

He’s not expecting it when James drops to his knees right there, feather soft kisses against the skin stretched over his hipbones. This is – oh, god. They haven’t done this yet, but, fuck, the sight of James on his knees is almost enough to have Logan coming in his pants.

James makes quick work of his belt, unbuttoning his pants and sliding down the zipper. He looks up at Logan through his lashes, voice low as he asks, “This okay?”

Logan nods quickly, feels James’ breathy chuckle against his stomach, but has no time to comment on it because James is tugging his pants and boxers down, wide palm gripping him tight.

“Oh, god,” he groans out, James’ tongue circling the head. His knees threaten to give out when James’ lips wrap around him, and he has to bite his fist to keep from screaming out when James hollows his cheeks and sucks.

This is going to be over embarrassingly fast, Logan knows, and when James works up a rhythm, fist stroking what’s not in his mouth, tongue slip-sliding over the vein on the underside, Logan barely gets out a warning before he’s coming, hot and hard into James’ mouth.

James pulls off after a soft lick to the tip, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He rises to his feet, licking his lips slow and sensual before he’s swooping in and stealing the remainder of Logan’s breath and instead of being grossed out, Logan finds it hotter than hell, licking the taste of himself off James’ tongue.

James waits until Logan steps out of the clothes bunched at his feet before he guides him to the bed, gently pushing until Logan’s sitting. Logan reaches out with shaky hands to pop the button on James’ pants, the sound of the zipper being tugged down loud in the quiet of the room. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of James’ briefs, tugging his briefs and pants down James’ long legs until they’re a pool of fabric at his feet.

He licks his lips at the sight of James, blood red and shiny at the tip, curving up towards his stomach. He leans in, places a soft kiss to the tip, James wet against his lips.

James sucks in a breath, cradling Logan’s face with one hand, thumb brushing against the swell of Logan’s cheek. “Lay back,” he says softly, carding his fingers through Logan’s hair before Logan complies.

Logan lies back against the pillows, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. This is so much, he’s feeling so much, his heart ready to beat out of his chest at the absolute love and trust he feels for James.

“You doing okay?” James asks, crawling up between Logan’s legs.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Logan replies, willing his nerves to calm down.

“Good,” James says, kissing Logan softly. “I don’t – how do you wanna do this?”

Logan bites his lip, swallowing down the emotions that are threatening to choke him. “I want you to,” he answers, letting the trust he feels shine bright in his eyes.

He can see the answering sheen of moisture in James’ eyes when he looks away and he has never loved him more than he does at this moment.

“Just – go slow, okay?” he says, sliding his hand down the sweaty skin of James’ shoulder.

“I’d never hurt you again, Logan,” James promises, and Logan can’t help the tears that slip out, not when he sees James fighting his own.

Logan hates to break this moment between them, this soft little bubble they’re wrapped up in, but if this is going to happen, James needs to know where the lube and condoms are, something that made him turn tomato red when he bought them.

“The uh – the stuff is in the bottom drawer of the nightstand,” he says, resolutely ignoring the way his face heats up.

James doesn’t comment on it, only reaches down to open the bottom drawer and pull out what he needs, placing them on the bed beside Logan. He hovers over Logan, looks straight into his eyes and says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Logan says instantly, smiling brightly up at James.

James settles back on his haunches between Logan’s legs, getting Logan to plant his feet against the bed before he snags the tube of lube and slicks up his fingers.

“Ready?” he asks, spreading Logan’s legs a little wider.

“Yeah,” Logan says on a breath, hands clutched tight in the sheet beneath him.

James presses a trail of kisses along the inside of Logan’s thigh as he touches the slick tips of his fingers against Logan’s hole, letting him adjust to the sensation of being touched there. When he feels Logan relax, he slides in a finger to the second knuckle, pausing there for a moment before he starts working it in and out.

Logan’s breathing is rough and ragged, sweat prickling along his hairline, body adjusting to the feel of James fingering him open. It’s nothing like he’d thought it would be, a little awkward, sure, but it’s – it’s not entirely unpleasant.

James slides in a second finger along with the first, and it’s a burning, stretching sensation that’s not the least bit pleasurable. Logan lets out a hiss of breath at the uncomfortable feeling, but James mouths at the inside of his thigh, whispering reassurances into his skin. Logan breathes through it, fisting himself loosely to override the discomfort, and then James’ fingers are moving in an easy rhythm, crooking up every time they slide in until James finds what he’s looking for and Logan’s back arches up off the bed.

“There we go,” James whispers, rubbing his fingers relentlessly over that spot until Logan starts babbling, then he adds a third, going straight for it again until Logan’s loose around his fingers.

His slick fingers make him fumble with the condom wrapper, but he gets it open and rolled on, spreading the slick over himself. He kneels between Logan’s legs, holding himself loosely at the base as he guides the tip to Logan’s hole.

Logan takes a deep breath, nods his head once, says, “I trust you,” and then James is pushing in. His body tries to fight against the intrusion, but Logan bears down, easing the way for James to slide all the way in. He’s fighting for air by the time James is flush against him, the stinging stretch of being filled causing him to wilt.

“It’ll get better, I promise,” James says, holding himself still, and Logan believes James with every fiber of his soul.

“You can move,” Logan says, gritting his teeth when James does, but then James is changing the angle just so and Logan’s body snaps tight at the pleasure zipping up his spine. “God, right there,” he groans, every thrust of James’ hips taking him higher and higher.

James’ body feels like it’s on fire, the tight heat around him like nothing he’s ever known. The sounds Logan’s making are hitting him deep in his belly, arousal singing through him, and it doesn’t take long for his thrusts to go off-rhythm, Logan tight like a vice around him. He holds himself up with one arm planted on the bed beside Logan’s head, the other wrapped around Logan, stroking him in choppy jerks of his fist.

Their lips are pressed together when James comes, entire body shuddering as he thrusts through it, groaning out his pleasure into Logan’s mouth. He strokes Logan faster, tighter until Logan’s coming, too, keening little sounds that James licks away instantly.

James pulls out carefully, removing the condom and tying it up. “Be right back,” he says, and Logan waits while James slips out the door, feeling completely spent and boneless.

James returns with a wet washcloth, wiping Logan’s stomach clean. He tosses it into the laundry basket then climbs back in bed beside Logan, positioning them so he’s lying on his back with his arm wrapped around Logan, Logan’s head pillowed on his shoulder.

“Feel okay?” James asks, skimming his knuckles up and down Logan’s spine.

“Better than,” Logan replies, placing his hand directly over James’ heart.

They lapse into a comfortable silence, the only sound that of their breathing.

“So, I was thinking,” Logan says after a few minutes.

“Hm?” James already sounds like he’s half asleep, but it’s something Logan’s been meaning to ask him about for days, but being so busy with finals, he hasn’t had a chance to.

“I was thinking I’d take you home to meet my parents,” Logan says, holding his breath just in case James says no.

“I’ve already met your parents,” James replies, laughing softly.

“Not as my boyfriend, you haven’t,” Logan points out.

“Very true,” James says. “Yeah, I guess I could go home with you. Haven’t been back to Minnesota in a while, anyways.”

His voice is calm as he says it, but Logan knows James is panicking inside. It’s a big deal, meeting his parents, even though James already knows them. His mom’s been pestering him about bringing someone home for what feels like forever now, and he’ll admit that he’s a little nervous about how his parents will take it when they see him with James, but he has the utmost confidence that his parents will be happy for him.

“My parents are going to love you, James,” Logan says, stopping the internal freak out James is having.

“You don’t know that,” James says, voice tinged with worry.

“Yes, I do,” Logan says confidently. “You know how I know?”

James shakes his head no.

“Because I love you. They only want me to be happy, and you – you do that. You make me so happy, James, happier than I thought I could ever be,” Logan says, voice trailing off to a whisper.

“You’re such a sap,” James says playfully, and he tilts Logan’s head up, brushing their lips together softly. “I love you, too, y’know, and you make me just as happy. I can’t wait to go home with you.”

If Logan was ever given the chance, he wouldn’t change a thing about the way his life happened. If one little thing might’ve gone differently, he probably wouldn’t be where he is today, wrapped protectively in the arms of the only guy he’s ever loved.

And that? That makes everything he went through worth it.


End file.
